


Pitches and Twitches

by Freecure



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drabbles, M/M, One Shot Collection, Rating May Change, boombox, ow boombox
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 20:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7948573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freecure/pseuds/Freecure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lúcio follows Junkrat’s rhythm and song, adapts to it, accompanies it with his own mellow tunes and beats and together, they make something incredible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Laughter

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of drabbles and stories that I wrote from asks and prompts on Tumblr. Most of them are one-shots. I'm putting them here so people can easily read them on mobile. Sometimes, these two will be in a relationship. Sometimes not.
> 
> The prompt here was Lúcio hearing Junkrat's laugh for the first time. Y'know, the new emote one.

They were in Ilios, blue rooftops and white buildings, sea salt and sunlight. Lúcio ran the back of his hand along his forehead, the sweat bothering him. They’d been here for hours scouring the ruins for some artifact that Winston insisted was powerful and heavily desired. Predictably, Talon had made an appearance, as well as some other organization Lúcio hadn’t heard or seen before.

Winston was talking it over with Reinhardt and Dr. Ziegler. All of them were waiting for Tracer to arrive with the jet to take them back to base. Lúcio was pretty sure he’d melt and turn into a puddle by then. He slowly turned his head to the right, unsurprised to see Junkrat and Roadhog conversing with each other. There was hardly ever a moment the two of them weren’t together, and now was no different. Since Lúcio didn’t feel like talking about immediate threats, criminal organizations and terrorist groups, he skated his way over to the junkers.

“Then I lobbed a grenade at his feet and blew ‘em up! Found out after it went off that there were about five others behind him, haha!” Junkrat’s giggle sounded through the air. Soprano. Lúcio was surprised he could reach that note. He must have a pretty good range.

Roadhog chuckled as well, belly shaking and heaving, heavy breaths sounding through his mask. He turned his head as Lúcio approached, holding up two fingers in greeting. Junkrat looked at him, too, but his approach was a bit more personal than Roadhog’s. He wrapped an arm around Lúcio’s neck and drew him closer, their faces _incredibly_ close. Lúcio started to sweat more and he knew it wasn’t from the heat.

“Ey, big shot! Was just tellin’ Roadie here about my wonderful work on this here mission,” Junkrat said. “Me and my partner earned our cut today, huh?”

Roadhog grunted in agreement, moving his hands to his pants and adjusting them. Junkrat laughed again, piercing yet pleasant in his ear. It was a scale, he realized. It sounded musical.

“Y-yeah, you guys did great,” Lúcio said, unsure of what to do with his hands. Did he wrap a hand around Junkrat’s waist? Lift a hand to touch at the arm that was wrapped around his neck? Keep his arms awkwardly by his sides? Lúcio opted for the last option despite the push he felt in the back of his mind to touch Junkrat’s skin. “Really saved my ass back there.”

Junkrat abruptly let go of him and pushed him away. Lúcio recovered quickly, but gave the junker a confused stare. Junkrat was just pointing at him, mouth open in a wide ‘o’ shape.

“That’s _right_! I nearly forgot about that!” he exclaimed. “If it weren’t for Roadie’s hook and my rip-tire, you’d be pushin’ up daisies, mate!”

Lúcio wouldn’t have been pushing up daisies, but he figured he could let Junkrat have this one. Besides, he looked cute when he was excited. “Yeah, you—”

“And did ya _see_ that rip-tire explosion? It was a **_real_ ** beaut,” Junkrat said. “It was loud and real gratifyin’, mate. Shoulda seen the smoke cloud afterwards! And the _flames_ , mate!” Junkrat giggled again, though this one was a bit more enthusiastic. He grabbed at his hair, jumped from one foot to the other, his hands balled into fists and shaking in front of him. He looked downright giddy at the thought of his amazing explosion.

Lúcio thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. He couldn’t help but laugh along with Junkrat even though he didn’t find the subject of loud explosions to be funny. He just looked cute with his nose all scrunched up and his lips twisted into a grin. Lúcio felt some burning sensation in the pit of his stomach, some new want or need that felt a little foreign or at the very least long forgotten. What was it… ?

“And I managed to get a bunch of those bastards! Showed ‘em what for, eh Roadie?” Junkrat said, nudging the larger male in his belly. A low rumble was all he received in reply, but the sound made Junkrat laugh again, his face flushing and his ears turning pink. Roadhog’s rumble must’ve translated into some form of praise.

Lúcio couldn’t even focus on that, too distracted by the pink color on Junkrat’s cheeks. The way it complimented his skin tone and hair. The way his amber eyes shined in the afternoon sun. Lúcio couldn’t take his eyes off of him. Unfortunately, Junkrat noticed.

“You alright there, short stuff? You’re sweatin’ like crazy,” Junkrat said, stepping a bit closer. Roadhog leaned down to inspect him, too, eyes hidden behind his mask.

Normally, Lúcio would’ve been touched by their concern. Now, he was trying to figure out why his heart was beating so fast, why his palms were so sweaty, why—

He froze.

“You wanna go wait in the shade, mate?” Junkrat said, placing a hand on Lúcio’s shoulder. “It’s not that hot out here. You wouldn’ta lasted a _day_ in Australia. Ain’t that right, Roadie?”

Roadhog grunted and placed his massive hand on Lúcio’s other shoulder, jostling him a bit. Lúcio snapped to attention at that.

“No, no. I’m fine, really,” he said, but he took a step back to give himself some air. “I just, uh… forgot to tell Winston somethin’ really important. I’ll be right back!” Lúcio skated off quickly, hand over his heart, ears hot, hands trembling. He realized what the feeling was. It hit him like a slap across the face. Quick, abrupt, painful.

He liked Junkrat.

He had the hots for _Junkrat_.

He was doomed.


	2. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ask prompt talking about Lúcio and Junkrat getting into a fight over Lúcio's constant coddling and worrying over Junkrat's well-being and safety during missions. Junkrat is sick of it and tells Lúcio that he should request a different medic when he's sent out on assignments. Lúcio is heartbroken and torn up about it.

Golden globes of light. Angel wings. Pale, blonde hair. Perfect blue eyes. Gorgeous laughter. High heels.

Blood. Lifeless eyes. Pleas and cries. Hands outstretched. Begging. Crying. _Reaching_.

Faster, louder, _closer!_

Too late.

“So, we know Talon’s searching for something around the Giza area. It could have something to do with the A.I. that’s rumored to be hidden in the underground research facility. I think it’s best if we travel there and get to the bottom of things ourselves.”

There weren’t enough chairs for everyone. The seats by the table were filled, others standing nearby to be close to Winston and be attentive to everything he was saying. Even the junkers were pretty close, Junkrat leaning on Roadhog for support.

Lúcio was closest to the door, just barely making out what Winston was saying. One earbud in his left ear, the other hanging down by his chest, he stared at the tile instead of the maps and projections that Winston had taken the time to make.

Junkrat hadn’t even looked in his direction.

Lúcio found himself continually looking in his.

“Junkrat, you’re the obvious choice for this mission. You’re skill with explosives is crucial. Which means Roadhog and Lúcio will—”

“Just Roadhog,” Junkrat spoke up, arms crossed. “Angel Cakes can be our medic.”

The room went silent.

Lúcio bowed his head. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, questioning glances, whispers, confusion.

“Ah… alright then,” Winston said, adjusted his glasses, continued with the meeting. Everyone’s attention turned back to the holograms and the screens. People asking questions, getting answers, a few laughs, some smiles.

Lúcio felt like his heart was breaking.

Junkrat had _said_ he’d ask for a new medic, but Lúcio hadn’t thought he’d actually go through with it. They could’ve talked it out, argued until it was resolved, stayed up late into the night and confessed things, laid everything out to bear.

Now Dr. Ziegler would be the one to keep him healthy and safe. Be his support and walk in his shadow as they worked together to get the job done.

Maybe that was for the best.

Lúcio clutched at his chest, fingers pulling at his shirt.

While everyone was focused on blue graphics and quadrants, Lúcio slipped through the doorway and into the hall. 

-

There were times when he doubted himself.

He couldn’t do what she could. Heal like she could. _Revive_ like she could. He wasn’t an expert in the field like she was. A certified, qualified doctor with experience under her belt and knowledge that far outweighed his own.

Lúcio was a freedom fighter, a revolutionary who held firmly onto his beliefs, did what he had to, and used the power of words and music to get where he was.

He didn’t think he was useless, but… he wasn’t as strong. Wasn’t as powerful or resourceful.

The power to _resurrect_ people. To save their souls from death and breathe new life into them. It was… _incredible_ and Lúcio’s own abilities paled in comparison.

It was a good thing that she was with Junkrat and Roadhog. It was relieving. They’d come back fine, perfectly healthy, and Lúcio would…

He would…

What _would_ he do?

 -

“Excellent work you three!” Winston praised, large arms crossed over his chest. “I’ll study the information you brought back and, hopefully, the Anubis A.I. will remain dormant. We may have to return at a later date to retrieve all the—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Junkrat interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “Money’s in our account, right?”

Winston sighed audibly, readjusted his glasses, annoyed. “ _Yes_ , Junkrat. I’ve already had that taken care of. Thank you for your work.”

Junkrat flashed Winston a smile. “No problem, mate. Always a pleasure blowin’ somethin’ up!”

Roadhog grunted in reply, latching his hook onto his belt and making for the door. The mission had left him bruised and tired. He was probably going to get a bite to eat and retire to his room.

Junkrat… wasn’t too sure _what_ he was going to do. Usually, after a successful mission, he and Lúcio would hang out and fool around and secretly be thankful that they were both still around. But they were fighting, so… that wasn’t going to happen.

A terrible feeling settled in his stomach, deep and uncomfortable and restless.

“Dr. Ziegler, I’m afraid you don’t have much time to rest. We have another task that needs to be taken care of, and you’re the only medic available,” Winston said, his voice hushed but Junkrat heard it loud and clear.

Only medic available? _What the hell_?

Junkrat turned back around and headed for the large table in the center of the room, interrupting the conversation Mercy and Winston were having. “Oi, apeman—”

“I’ve told you a thousand times, it’s _Winston_ —”

“—Apeman, what’s goin’ on?” Junkrat continued, ignoring Winston’s words. “Last time I checked, we had _two_ medics around here. That change while I was gone?”

Winston looked shocked, glasses shifting on his nose. He eyed Junkrat, golden eyes narrowed. “You… don’t know? I thought the two of you were involved—”

“ _Tell me what’s goin’ on_ ,” Junkrat seethed. He was confused and irritated and _livid_. Mostly at himself. He didn’t like not knowing what was going on with Lúcio. It was why he insisted on them going on missions together, spending as much time with each other as they could. If something had happened to him while he was gone, he would set the _entire_ base ablaze and—

“He told me that he didn’t want to be considered for the next few missions,” Winston explained. “I assumed he was feeling under the weather or perhaps he had other matters to attend to.”

Junkrat moved back, recoiled. Lúcio hardly ever got sick. He took great care of himself, drank plenty of water, ate healthy. It wasn’t celebrity business, either. Lúcio had given Junkrat a calendar marked with all his upcoming events and trips. He knew Lúcio’s schedule better than he did his own.

No. Neither of those reasons where why.

Junkrat clenched his hands into fists. “Nah, that’s not it,” he muttered. Instead of telling the other two about his thoughts, Junkrat turned, walking as quickly as his peg leg would allow.

He shouldn’t have left. He shouldn’t have followed through with what he said.

Lúcio may have worried about him, but it was the first time someone had since… _years_ ago. Roadhog may have, but that was more his job than anything.

Lúcio did it voluntarily, willingly. He actually _cared_ about Junkrat. And instead of being thankful, appreciative that he’d found someone like Lúcio, he’d pushed him away, separated himself from him.

Left him alone.

It wouldn’t happen again.

-

Lúcio’s room was empty and quiet but Junkrat walked in anyway. The bed was neatly made, comforter and sheets perfectly in place. Junkrat found himself wanting to jump on the bed and mess them up, cover them with his sweat and stench. Lúcio would be pissed as _hell_ , but it was always a blast to see him ticked.

Junkrat sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. Hopefully… Lúcio wouldn’t be too mad. It was a silly thing to fight over, and Junkrat had been caught up in the heat of the moment. The mission hadn’t been going so well and Lúcio had been _especially_ worried and concerned and…

There was no need to make excuses. He’d fucked up, that’s what mattered.

Junkrat sat on the edge of the bed, noticing a few of his tank tops and t-shirts stacked neatly on Lúcio’s dresser. Had he really left so much of his clothing in Lúcio’s room? It shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did. He spent more time here than in his own cluttered and messy room.

As he looked around, there was more evidence of his presence sprinkled about the small space. Empty grenade shells that had his trademark grin on them, tools and metal scattered on the surface of Lúcio’s desk, a scrawled doodle of himself on the calendar that hung near the door. It had become… _their_ room in their time together.

Junkrat fell back onto the bed, suddenly assaulted with familiar, soothing scents and silky cloth. He remembered the times they’d come back from a mission, tired, dirty and bruised and collapse onto Lúcio’s bed, groggily wrapping their arms around each other and muttering words against warm skin. He remembered waking up, recalling the mission and the dangers they faced, feeling thankful that they’d both made it out alive.

He remembered all of that being possible thanks to Lúcio and his abilities. To his dependability and his smarts. Junkrat felt _invincible_ when Lúcio was with him, like he could take on the world.

With angel cakes… he just felt fine.

Sure, she was an actual doctor and knew all about those nano-whatevers, didn’t matter to Junkrat. In addition to healing him, speeding him up, providing him with barriers that protected him from harm, Lúcio was just fun to _be_ around. He’d take him over angel cakes any day.

“Jamie?”

Junkrat turned his head quickly, propping himself up on the bed and looking toward the doorway. Lúcio was there; clad in a large hoodie with his signature emblem on it and pajama bottoms. He had a mug of something in his hands. Tea? Maybe he _was_ sick. But then why wouldn’t he just play some music and heal himself? Maybe it didn’t work that way?

“‘Ey, Sunshine,” he said, all cheer and smiles. When Lúcio just stared at him, it came to him quickly that they were _fighting_ , and you weren’t supposed to call your boyfriend by his pet name when you were fighting. Junkrat sat up completely, hands folded in his lap, expression thoughtful. Instead of bringing up the fight and the unnecessarily terrible thing he’d done, maybe he could direct the conversation to something else.

He cleared his throat. “Heard you’re takin’ a break from missions,” Junkrat said, twiddling his thumbs, fingers constantly moving.

Lúcio came into the room and closed the door behind him. He walked over to his desk instead of sitting beside Junkrat on the bed. The space was unwelcome, but he wasn’t sure how Lúcio was feeling. Maybe he’d be thankful that they weren’t too close to each other once he spoke.

“Yeah,” Lúcio said, taking a sip of whatever was in his mug. Junkrat waited for him to continue, one blonde, thick eyebrow raised in question when he didn’t.

“Y’gonna tell me why?” Junkrat asked, growing impatient.

Lúcio looked up at him, brown eyes lacking their usual brightness. “Figured it’d be better to let Dr. Ziegler take care of things,” he answered.

_...What?_

Junkrat stared at Lúcio for a good minute, very confused. Since _when_ did Lúcio not wanna help people? Heal them? It was because of the fight, wasn’t it? It was the only explanation. Fine. Junkrat would clear things up and Lúcio would forgive him (hopefully), and then he’d go right back to being his normal, cheerful self.

“If this is about… what I said, then… I was wrong,” Junkrat said, glancing up at Lúcio before looking back down at his dirty boot again. “I shouldn’ta said that to ya. You’ve always taken care a’me and shit. Was wrong to get onto ya about that.”

“No, you weren’t,” Lúcio said. His eyes were tilted downward, staring into the liquid that filled his mug, his hands still wrapped securely around it. “I was being overprotective. You know what you’re doing. You’ve done it countless times before, so…” Lúcio paused to sigh and set the mug on his desk. “I shouldn’t have gotten onto you so much.”

Junkrat cracked a smile. “Yeah, but sometimes I need that, Heatfrog,” he said. “I know I can be a handful. Hell, Roadie tells me that all the time. Need people like you and ‘Hog to straighten me out.”

Lúcio smiled, though it was only for a fleeting moment. Junkrat’s gut twisted uncomfortably when he realized that was the only smile he’d seen on Lúcio’s face since he entered the room. “Doesn’t matter now,” Lúcio said, leaning an elbow on the desk. “Dr. Ziegler’s gonna be your medic from now on. You’re safer with her than…” Lúcio trailed off but Junkrat got the picture and he didn’t much like it.

“S’cuse me?” he asked, head tilted, eyes narrowed, lips set in a frown. “You’ve saved me’n ‘Hog _countless_ times and--”

“That doesn’t _matter!_ ” Lúcio interrupted, raising his voice, eyes looking watery. He quickly looked away from Junkrat, turning in the desk chair and crossing his arms. “S-she can do things I can’t. She’s better qualified, and I’m…” Lúcio sighed, defeated, dejected, and hopeless. “It’s just better if she goes with you, Jamie."

Junkrat was up and off the bed in an instant. He crossed the room in long strides, standing by Lúcio’s chair. He grabbed the back of it and turned it so that Lúcio was looking up at him. The sight of his boyfriend sad and teary-eyed made Junkrat want to push a grenade down someone’s throat.

Lúcio was his sunshine, smiles and light and music.

 _Anyone_ that upset Lúcio had to deal with _him._

Unfortunately, _he_ had been the one to upset Lúcio like this. He couldn’t shove a grenade down his own throat (well, he _could_ ) but he could punch himself or something. Break a few of his own fingers. Set himself on fire. Whatever.

Or he could try his hardest to never make Lúcio sad again. It was a longshot, probably impossible, but Junkrat would fucking _try_. Harder than he ever had before.

Junkrat leaned downward, back bent in an uncomfortable position. He didn’t care. That didn’t matter. He cupped Lúcio’s face with his hands, amber staring into teary brown. “Cut that shit out,” Junkrat said, eyebrows furrowed.

Lúcio just stared at him, blinked, a tear rolling down his cheek. Junkrat caught it with his metal thumb and brushed it away.

“Stop cryin’,” Junkrat said, ordered, _demanded_ because he couldn’t stand it. It was wrong and unordinary and _fuck_ why had he started a fight over something so stupid? His heart was beating painfully in his chest, his stomach in knots. “You are _better_ than she is.”

Lúcio scoffed, rolled his eyes, tried to turn his head away. “Yeah, right. That’s—”

“ _Look at me_ ,” Junkrat growled, low and angry and frustrated. Lúcio looked at him, a little startled, Junkrat could tell, but that didn’t matter. “You’re the best medic I’ve ever seen. _Amazin’_ what you can do with just music. No one else can do what you do, Heatfrog.”

Lúcio’s bottom lip was trembling. Junkrat placed the pad of his thumb against it to steady it. “Jamie, she can bring you back to life—”

“If she were a _good_ medic, I wouldn’t be dead in the bloody _**first place**_ , would I?” Junkrat argued, nearly _shouted_ because how could Lúcio not see what he saw? It was so blatantly, glaringly obvious that he was the better choice.

Lúcio frowned slightly, his own eyebrows furrowing now. “It’s more complicated than that. There’s countless—”

“Shut up,” Junkrat interrupted, pressed their foreheads together, noses touching. “You’re the only medic I want. No one else can keep up with me, put up with me, protect me like you can. You 'n me? We’re a team.” Junkrat paused, thinking for a moment. “And Roadie. The three of us. We’re a team, love. We **_need_** you.”

Another tear fell. Junkrat brushed it away, thumbs rubbing against Lúcio’s cheeks gently, caressing the skin. He lifted his head just a bit and kissed the tip of Lúcio’s nose, heart fluttering in his chest when he heard a soft laugh.

Warm hands lifted up and touched at Junkrat’s wrists, Lúcio finally smiling and filling Junkrat’s heart with sunshine and warmth. “But Jamie, you said before that—”

“ _Fuck_ what I said,” Junkrat said. He smiled himself, placing more kisses on Lúcio’s face. His cheeks, his forehead, his jaw, his chin. “I ain’t goin’ on any other missions unless you’re there, sunshine.”

Lúcio chuckled again, nose looking a little runny, eyes looking a little puffy but other than that, he looked fine. Back to normal. He tilted his head up and pressed their lips together, the kiss tasting of salt and lemon tea ( _that’s_ what Lúcio had been drinking), but Junkrat loved it all the same.

The kiss lasted only a moment before Lúcio pulled away, fingers tangled in blonde locks. Junkrat grinned. He wrapped his arms around Lúcio’s waist, picked him up quickly and easily and then set him down on the desk. Lúcio was quick to adjust, hands going around Junkrat’s neck, pulling him closer.

“Y’know what we gotta do now, right?” Junkrat asked, voice a husky, low whisper. He felt Lúcio shiver in his arms and he giggled.

“Take a bath together because you smell like burnt rubber?” Lúcio said, laughing and rubbing their noses together.

Junkrat snorted. “Yeah, we’ll do that first, but _afterwards_ , we gotta have makeup sex. We _did_ fight.”

Lúcio hummed, smooth fingers rubbing at the back of Junkrat’s neck. “Is that a rule?”

Junkrat pressed a few, quick kisses on Lúcio’s lips, pulling away just before Lúcio could properly return them. “Damn right, it is. And it’s one _we’re_ gonna follow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this one.


	3. Shorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked about Junkrat and Lúcio seeing each other in their Olympic skins. I might continue this? Because it was fun.

It was the shorts.

The shorts were bothering him.

Lúcio was finding it _increasingly_ difficult to look away. He hadn’t looked at anything else for fifteen minutes. People had noticed, surely. He didn’t care. Junkrat’s ass looked _great_ in those shorts. Would look even better if they were off.

“Alright, Mr. Fawkes, we’ve established the rules of the game and discussed the terms. Are you ready to begin?” Dr. Ziegler, or Angela, as she insisted Lúcio call her, said.

Junkrat snorted loudly, hocked a loogie onto the grass near him, earning a disgusted look from everyone watching behind the fence, and gripped his racket tighter in his hands. “Sure, love. Ready when you are.”

Lúcio couldn’t even bring himself to be angry or annoyed at Junkrat using his pet name on someone else. Those _shorts_ …

“Very well then,” Angela said, holding her own racket tightly in her hand. Thankfully, no one was ogling over her own outfit, everyone being respectful and courteous to a fellow colleague and old friend. Lúcio, however, was staring at Junkrat like he was the finest thing on two legs, which he _was_. Lúcio was allowed to ogle as much as he wanted. He was currently hitting that.

Angela threw the ball into the air and hit it, the loud sound stirring Lúcio out of his perverted thoughts. The game went pretty well, at first, Junkrat countering all of Angela’s hits despite his lopsided gait and frantic screams and cries when he got close to missing the ball.

Junkrat was pretty fast when he didn’t have a large ass tire on his back.

They moved faster; hit harder, sweat dripping down Junkrat’s body. Lúcio tried not to notice, tried not to stare at Junkrat’s glistening chest but he couldn’t help it! Those _abs_ combined with the shorts…

Lúcio needed a shower or something.

“That’s a point!” Winston called, Angela having missed one of Junkrat’s hits. They were both out of breath, sweaty and tired, and this was only the first set! They’d probably need to change the rules of the— holy shit, Junkrat was bent over, hands on his knees, panting.

Lúcio quickly grabbed his towel and wiped off the sweat that had begun to form on his brow. That ass was _right_ in his face and he hadn’t been ready for it.

Angela served the ball again and the game continued as normal, the constant sound of a ball hitting a racket filling the air.

Well, that is, until a scream replaced that sound.

Somehow, Junkrat had switched the ball with an actual _grenade_ and had lobbed it right at Angela without a second thought. She had dodged, thankfully, but the small thing went off nearby and blew up a small portion of the court.

Lúcio shrunk down in his seat, covering his face in his hands. He should’ve known something like this would happen.

Junkrat was cackling loudly, racket discarded on the floor, hands wrapped around his middle. “You shoulda seen your _face_ , Angel Cakes! Priceless!” he said, wiping a tear from his eye.

Angela was not amused. “Mr. Fawkes! You know very well that—”

“Aw, are you tellin’ me _no one_ saw that comin’?” Junkrat said, turning and looking at the spectators behind the fence. “If I’d served first, I woulda done it sooner.”

“You’re lucky no one got hurt!” Winston rumbled, entering the court and checking on Angela. She was fine, she assured, though her hair was a mess from the explosion. “This isn’t a game—”

“It _is_ a game,” Junkrat countered, rolling his eyes at Winston. “I wasn’t plannin’ on hurtin’ nobody. Was a small ‘nade, that. Wouldn’ta blown off a limb or nothin’.”

Lúcio stood up from his seat and gripped at the metal fence. “ _Jamie!_ ” he whispered frantically. “Come here. _Now_.” A shame. He’d been planning on giving Junkrat the best blow job imaginable, but that definitely wasn’t happening now.

Junkrat turned toward him scratched at his head and walked over toward the fence. As he walked closer, Lúcio forgot what he was going to say, Junkrat’s abs distracting him. Wait, no, he was _mad._ Junkrat could’ve hurt someone!

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I was outta line. But ya can’t tell me that wasn’t funny!” Junkrat said as soon as he was near the fence. “I can’t believe nobody thought I’d do that! It’s a classic ‘Junkrat’ thing to do!”

“Listen,” Lúcio said, trying not to get flustered when Junkrat touched their fingers together. “I searched you for bombs before we came out here. You hid one from me.”

“‘Course I did. Joke wouldn’t have worked without it,” Junkrat said, grinning. Lúcio was getting worse at scolding Junkrat. His stupid smiles and grins always made him feel weak in the knees.

“ _Where_ did you hide it?” he asked.

Junkrat shrugged. “Not tellin’.”

Lúcio wanted to reach through the fence and pull on his stupid hair.

“Jamie, that was dangerous—”

“No, it wasn’t! I told you it was a small grenade. Not enough in there to pack a real punch. Angel Cakes woulda been _fine_ ,” Junkrat said.

Lúcio _wanted_ to believe that. Junkrat had been awfully friendly with everyone on base. Surely he wouldn’t put anyone in any real danger…

But a bomb was a bomb.

“I’m still mad at you,” Lúcio said, voice low. “You’re going to tell me where you hid that grenade or—”

“Or what?” Junkrat asked, unintimidated.

Lúcio huffed, his face growing hot. “No sex for a week.”

Junkrat bursted out laughing, drawing the attention of everyone near the fence. Lúcio tried to keep his expression firm and confident, but truthfully, he hadn’t expected his boyfriend to _laugh_ at the threat.

“Now _that’s_ a good one, glowstick. Almost as good as the bomb,” Junkrat said, pressing closer to the fence, leaning against it.

Lúcio could reach down and touch his abs if he wanted to. Feel those muscles and the glimmering sweat. Run his fingers over the skin, flick his tongue out and lick—

Junkrat’s grin had spread wider, a knowing look on his face.

Lúcio suddenly found the rich, green grass to be exceedingly interesting.

“You and I _both_ know that won’t last long,” Junkrat said. He leaned down a bit, bringing his face close to Lúcio’s. “You haven’t taken your eyes off me since we came out here.”

Lúcio started to sweat like _he’d_ been the one playing tennis for thirty minutes. Had he really been that obvious? “I’m allowed to look—”

“‘Course ya are. And you’re allowed to kiss and suck and do whatever the hell else ya want,” Junkrat whispered, bending down lower. Amber staring into brown. Nothing but a fence between them. “You can’t stand there and tell me you’d be able to hold out for a week.”

Lúcio swallowed, wanting to look away but finding it difficult to do so. Junkrat was right, of course, It had been an empty threat. It was impossible for them to do _nothing_ for an entire week. They were together nearly every day, kissing, touching, and much more. To be restricted from going all the way was too much. If Lúcio couldn’t do it, Junkrat _definitely_ couldn’t.

Lúcio cleared his throat. “I… uhm—” The words died in his throat. Junkrat had pulled on one of Lúcio’s fingers, tugging it through a hole in the fence, and taken it into his mouth. He immediately started sucking, his tongue swirling over Lúcio’s finger, teeth occasionally biting down on it. Junkrat did all this while keeping eye contact.

Lúcio had never gotten so hard so quickly in his entire life.

Junkrat pulled away just a bit, expression cocky, confident. He still held Lúcio’s finger in his hand, index finger and thumb holding it in place. “We _can’t_ last a week, love. That’s not how it works with us. Not if you get a stiffy just from me changin’ up my outfit.”

Lúcio snapped out of his daze at that, offended. Two could play at that game. “Oh yeah? Like you weren’t checkin’ me out earlier during soccer?”

Junkrat snickered, placing his hand on the fence and intertwining his fingers with Lúcio as best he could despite the metal separating them. “ _Hell_ yeah, I was. Y’know I like it when you wear your hair up like that. Looks cute,” Junkrat said, unashamed, unabashed. “You were lookin’ good in those shorts, too.”

Lúcio licked his lips, standing up on his tip toes so that he could touch his nose to Junkrat’s through a hole. “Same to you,” he said, lowering his voice. “Your ass looks _great_ in them.”

“That so?” Junkrat asked, giggling under his breath. Lúcio laughed as well, heart skipping a beat when he felt Junkrat rub his thumb over his knuckles.

“Mhmm,” Lúcio nodded. “You were doin’ great out there, by the way. Y’know, until the bomb.”

Junkrat’s face grew pink, cheeks heating up and tips of his ears turning red. He was such a sucker for praise. Lúcio thought it was the cutest thing.

Wait… he was supposed to be mad, right? Maybe… he was going about this the wrong way.

“Jamie,” Lúcio whispered, voice sultry and deep. “If you tell me where you hid that bomb, I’ll let you top.”

Junkrat’s eyes grew wide, an ear splitting grin on his face. He leaned back and pressed a kiss to the tip of Lúcio’s nose. “You got a deal, Heatfrog! I—” Junkrat paused, narrowing his eyes. “ _Any_ position?”

Lúcio nodded. “Any position.”

“ _Deal_ ,” Junkrat said, but instead of answering the one question Lúcio asked, he turned on his heel and walked away from the fence, leaving Lúcio horny, alone and annoyed.

“Wait, _Jamie!_ ” he called, brows furrowed. “You didn’t answer!”

Junkrat turned to look at him, walking backwards toward the court. “Gotta finish my set first, light brite!”

Lúcio huffed, gripping the fence, his wet finger bothering him. There was no way Angela was going to finish the game with him, but Roadhog was there, racket in hand, ready to play. Well... he supposed he could wait for an answer. 

He got to see more of those shorts.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know light brite's don't exist in the future and no one probably knows about them at all but just let me have this okay.


	4. Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked about insecurities and Junkrat not feeling like he's good enough for Lúcio.

Lúcio was this amazing ball of sunshine that brightened the room whenever he entered. Everyone loved him, he was a famous celebrity. and he was adored by Rio. He was sweet and caring and kind and sexy and Junkrat was…

Junkrat looked at himself in comparison, burnt hair and lanky figure. The grime that acted as a second skin and the smell of smoke that was like a cloak that never came off. His peg leg that he personally adored and how it probably annoyed Lúcio with how he hobbled around.

But Junkrat liked those things about himself. He thought he looked cool. He never really gave a rat’s ass about what people thought of him, but he sure did give a fuck what _Lúcio_ thought because he was amazing and Junkrat wanted to be someone who could stand beside him, someone who wasn’t inadequate and unworthy.

But he _liked_ the flaming tips on his hair.

And Lúcio had to like that shit, too, right? Because otherwise… why were they together? Lúcio had never told him to change, to put on clothes, to get a proper prosthetic leg. Lúcio just kissed him and held him and treated him better than anyone else ever had.

So… was it okay? He didn’t want to mess this up.

“You like my hair, right?” Junkrat asked one Tuesday morning in the bathroom. McCree was grooming his facial hair, Lúcio was doing the same. Junkrat was sitting on the edge of one of the sinks nearby, watching him.

“Yeah, I do,” Lúcio replied easily. It smelled like shaving cream and cologne and Junkrat wished McCree would _scram_ so that he could push Lúcio up against the bathroom stall and kiss him. He just might do that anyway. “It’s unique.”

“It’s on _fire_ ,” McCree spoke up.

Junkrat glared at him.

“And you like my leg?” Junkrat asked next, pushing his peg leg into Lúcio’s personal space.

Brown eyes glanced down, stared at the leg and then he laughed. “Yeah, your leg’s cool.”

“Yer a pirate,” McCree chuckled. Grimaced. Nicked himself with his razor. Junkrat grinned.

“Pirates are cool,” Lúcio said, trying to keep the peace, sensing Junkrat’s frustration, cleaning his face with water so they could leave and prevent a fight from breaking out. “I loved pirate stories when I was a kid.”

Junkrat loved them, too.

“What’s this all about, Jamie?” Lúcio asked, looking up and wiping his face with a towel. “You know I think you’re attractive. I tell you that everyday.”

“Debatable,” McCree grumbled but Junkrat heard it. Lúcio moved quickly, picking Junkrat up off the sink before he could jump down and start trouble.

Junkrat wasn’t heavy, so Lúcio carried him outside, set him down gently so he could stand… then finished drying his face and wiping off shaving cream.

“Bloody **dipstick**. I’ll show _him_ what’s debatable–”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Lúcio said, laughing and draping the towel around his neck. “Now, what’s goin’ on?”

“Nothin’, I just…” Junkrat sighed, leaned back against the wall, crossed his arms. “I wanna make sure you’re okay with… this.”

Lúcio shifted on his feet. “Okay with what?”

Junkrat made a vague gesture, a hand sweeping over his whole body. “’Cuz if you’re not, then…”

Lúcio moving into Junkrat’s personal space, wrapping his arms around bony hips and pressing his fingertips into warm skin. He placed kisses on Junkrat’s exposed chest and flicked his tongue against a nipple just to feel him squirm.

“’Course I’m okay with you. I think you’re _amazing_. Both inside and out,” Lúcio said, hands rubbing at Junkrat’s sides, soothing, comforting. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Junkrat just gaping at Lúcio like he was insane. “’Cuz you’re–!” Another vague gesture, long fingers pointed in Lúcio’s direction, “And I’m…”

“ _Beautiful_ ,” Lúcio finished, white teeth shining in the fluorescent lighting as he smiled. “And I wanna be with you. Do you… wanna be with me?”

“ _Fuck_ **_yes_** ,” Junkrat answered immediately, hands going around Lúcio’s shoulders, holding him close, possessive.

“Good,” Lúcio said, voice muffled since he was pressed tightly to Junkrat’s chest. “Then we got nothin’ to worry about.”


	5. Lúcio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat realizes he doesn't remember Lúcio’s name during an argument and freaks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short. Sorry.

Junkrat stops, freezes, _panics_.

The fight is over something trivial, stupid, as their fights so often are. In the heat of it, angry and flushed and annoyed, Junkrat realizes that a pet name isn’t going to work here. But what _is_ the name of the short man standing in front of him?

Junkrat can’t remember.

Heatfrog _always_ calls him by his real name. Says it sweetly, kindly, softly when they’re in bed, like it’s a secret shared just between the two of them.

He says it angrily, frustratingly, _exasperatingly_ on missions when Junkrat insists on doing something he shouldn’t. The low, warning, tired tone of his name on Heatfrog’s lips makes him shudder, makes him grin and laugh and act silly.

Heatfrog moans it, frantic, **_needy_** and unsated in the late hours of the night, eyes clenched shut, fingers tangled in blonde hair, gasps and whines interrupting broken mumblings of his name.

Junkrat tries to recall all the posters and flyers that promoted his concerts, the merchandise that has his name scribbled in some fancy font, the times Junkrat would stand to the side as he signed autograph after autograph.

He can’t remember.

Instead of admitting it, cluing Heatfrog in to his mistake, Junkrat omits nicknames from the argument entirely. He doesn’t call Heatfrog anything, just uses statements and words and forms sentences the best he can despite the panic and shame in his stomach.

He can see the look of confusion on Heatfrog’s face, the way his head tilts just slightly and his eyes narrow.

Junkrat ignores it, tries to hide his complicated feelings behind a mask because  _how could he forget his own boyfriend’s name?_

“Lúcio.”

Junkrat freezes. “Wh-what?”

“My name,” Lúcio continues, “is Lúcio. You forgot, didn’t you?”

Junkrat just stares at Lúcio, feeling stupid and broken and worthless. “S-sorry, love, I just—”

Lúcio sighs tiredly, takes his hands off his hips and moves forward. He looks up at Junkrat and notices the swirling of emotions in amber eyes, knows that he’s beating himself up over this. He takes Junkrat’s hands, holds them tightly. He’s still mad, but... “It’s okay.”

Junkrat slowly intertwines their fingers. “... Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lúcio replies, because all of those nicknames, he’s come to love. Jamie uses a different one depending on what’s going on or how he feels. With Jamie, the more nicknames you had the more fond he was of you. Roadhog had twenty-six. Lúcio is slowly growing closer to that number himself.

He squeezes Junkrat’s hands, reassuring him that it’s fine, don’t worry about it, calm down. “It’s okay, Jamie.” Lúcio says, putting the petty argument on the back burner for now.

Junkrat licks his lips, rubbing his metal thumb over the back of Lúcio’s hand. “So… Lúcio…?”

Lúcio laughs. “Yeah.”

Junkrat thinks it over, recalls the feeling of the name on his tongue, how it sounds in his voice. He reaches a conclusion. “I like Heatfrog better.”


	6. Crisis in Numbani

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on a mission, Lúcio makes the mistake of saying that Junkrat's a criminal and that he'll never be able to change who he really is. Junkrat lets Lúcio's words stew in his mind until he decides that he'll show off how terrible he can really be.

Billowing smoke. Red flames. Unbearable heat. Sirens. Screams. Gunshots.

Loud, cackling laughter.

Lúcio stood in the middle of the street, eyes wide and staring at the large fire that was slowly consuming brick and steel and metal. Another explosion, louder this time. Closer. An Omnic brushed past Lúcio and ran frantically. More followed. Women, children, _innocent people_.

He hadn’t had time to put on his gear. He’d heard the first explosion, the sound shaking the foundation of the hotel and the many buildings close to it. Clothed in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, Lúcio stood frozen as Numbani was slowly consumed by flames.

Police officers directed people to safety, putting up yellow tape and setting perimeters. People were screaming at him, telling him to run. Lúcio could only focus on the sound of that laughter. He _knew_ he’d heard it. He knew who it was.

He just didn’t want to believe it.

The ground shook as a building collapsed into itself. More screams. Shouts. Cries.

Lúcio took one step forward but couldn’t bring himself to take another. He didn’t want to face it. He didn’t want to see the destruction. He didn’t want to see the blood and death.

_It was his fault._

Lúcio took another step, legs unfrozen but shaking. Heart pounding. Ears ringing.

_If he had just kept his mouth shut…!_

Slow steps turned into a walk. A walk turned into a jog. A jog into a run.

_He took those words to heart. He should’ve apologized. He should’ve **explained**!_

There!

There he was.

Among the police cars and ambulances. Guns drawn and pointed in his direction. Standing in front of a backdrop of smoke and ash and _fire_.

Junkrat.

 _Jamie_.

Grinning wickedly. Shoulders hunched. Fingers twitching. Laughing manically. Eyes fierce and alive. Feral and lit with light, with fire. Proud. Ecstatic. In his element.

Those stunning eyes met Lúcio’s own frightened brown ones.

“ _Heatfrog!_ Glad you could make it!” Junkrat exclaimed, unbothered by death staring him in the face. He pushed the devil aside, focusing on brown skin. On charming smiles and compliments. On words of encouragement. On sweet nothings.

On _lies_.

“Jamie,” Lúcio said, voice trembling. He walked closer to the police tape, to the barrier preventing him from touching Jamie. From cupping his face. From holding him tight. “What have you _done_?”

“Aw, now I’m confused!” Junkrat said, scratching at his flaming mop of blonde hair. “Ain’t this what a _criminal_ s’posed to do? I’m just doin’ my job!”

Junkrat’s expression turned grim, angry. Hurt. Betrayed.

Lúcio’s heart clenched in his chest.

“N-no, that’s not…” Lúcio took a breath, swallowed, tried again. “I didn’t mean that. I just thought—”

“Oh, _shut up_. I know what you meant,” Junkrat snapped. He took a step closer to the tape and more guns were pulled out of holsters. More aimed right at Junkrat’s face. He didn’t care. “All that shit you said before? What you told me? That was all _lies_!”

“No! I never lied to you. I just—!” Lúcio gritted his teeth, frustrated at the situation, frustrated at the lack of privacy, frustrated at the fire and heat that was making him sweat. “Jamie, _please_ , listen to me. I—”

“Junkrat.”

Lúcio paused, tilted his head. “Wh-what?”

Junkrat looked up, land mine in hand, detonator in the other. “ _Junkrat_. That’s my name. Jamie’s gone.”

Lúcio froze. Stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped _thinking_.

He only watched as amber eyes glared at them, their heat more intense than the actual fire that surrounded him.

There was a beeping sound. A loud, booming noise. Gunshots. Curses. Orders. Shouts.

Lúcio being grabbed, dragged away, eyes empty and broken.

A trail of smoke in the night sky.

-

Bright lights. White walls. Lab coats. Stretchers. Loud beeping. Shouting. Rushing. Ceramic tiles. Intercoms. I.D. badges. Doctors. Nurses.

Hospital.

Lúcio wasn’t sure why he was here. He wasn’t hurt. Not _physically_. There were so many people that were, though. The lobby was overcrowded. Muffled sobs. Frantic whispering. Hands folded in prayer. Tissue boxes being emptied. Desperate cries. Uneasy tension.

The television was on. News coverage on the explosions, the fire, the culprit. The criminal responsible. Lúcio’s gut twisted. He looked away.

 _It was his fault_.

He shouldn’t be here. He… _couldn’t_ be here. Not with all these people. Not sitting and waiting for… _what_? What was he waiting for?

Lúcio slowly got to his feet, pushed past an Omnic who was clutching a picture to their metal chest, a woman holding the hand of her child, a man with his hands covering his face.

He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand the blood and death and the crushing guilt that it was _his fault_. Lúcio exited the hospital, staggering out into the night and looking up. The beautiful hues of blue and purple were obscured by smoke. By fire.

 _Where was he now_?

Would he even speak to him? Listen to him? Would he get a chance to apologize? Or was that it?

Was that the last time they’d see each other?

The thoughts latched onto him, gripped him, grabbed him and pulled him down.

_It was his fault. It was his fault. It was his fault!_

The fire continued in the distance. More sirens. More screams. People brushed past him to get into the revolving doors of the hospital. Faces burned. Scars. Pain. Hurt.

 _Preventable_.

As Lúcio looked at the scene, at the disturbing images, he remembered who he was. How he’d gotten here. He remembered shouting until his voice gave out. He remembered giving orders. Speeches. Leading. Fighting.

 _Winning_.

A hero.

He needed to be a hero again _right now_. As the city fell to ruins in front of him, he needed to be out there, helping, fixing, righting his mistake.

Lúcio took a deep breath, steadied himself. Pushed those thoughts into the back of his mind. Stopped thinking about tender moments in the early mornings and quiet talks in the dead of night.

He started to walk. Then run.

He would fix this.

-

“Do we have any idea where he is?”

“He would’ve fled the scene long ago. The place is crawlin’ with cops.”

“Where would he go?”

Yellow. Healing. Handshakes. Coughing. Sweat. Tired. Microphones. Questions. Flashes. Accusations. No comment. No comment. _No comment._

Television. News reports. Criminal. _Criminal_. Bounty. Ruthless. Deadly. Insane. Crazy. Beware.

Beautiful. Blonde hair. Chapped lips. Bony hips. Black nails. Golden tooth. Gasoline. Smoke. Dirt. Dust.

 _Fire_.

“Lúcio? Do you have any idea where he could’ve escaped to?”

Tired, cold eyes turned to look at Dr. Ziegler. He shook his head slowly. He turned back around and looked at the television. More news reports. Photos of the fire. Casualties in the double digits.

Dr. Ziegler sighed, but accepted his answer. She rejoined the group. Cramped inside the tiny, single hotel room, the team was all gathered, discussing what to do, who to contact, where to look.

A photo of him appeared on the screen. Lúcio’s stomach twisted with remorse and regret.

 _It was his fault_.

“We’ve gotta find him. We can’t let him go on a rampage!” Lena spoke up, hands on her hips, frown on her face. “Lives are on the line!”

Winston adjusted his glasses. “I have a few ideas of where we can start our search. We’ll need to spread out. Prepare yourselves. He’s smarter than he looks and he probably knows we’re coming for him. And team…” Winston trailed off, bowing his head and lowering his voice.

Lúcio could still hear the whispered words and they pierced him right through the heart. His eyes wide open and filled with disbelief. Entire body frozen in fear.

“We may have to take him down.”

- 

Roadhog was outside, sitting on the tiny steps that led into the hotel. People avoided him, stepping around him, pointing and whispering. Laughing, snickering. Lúcio glared at them as he passed, hands stuffed into the pockets of his loose-fitting jeans. He took a seat next to Roadhog, watching as massive hands cleaned his scrap gun.

The two of them sat in silence. Lúcio looked out past the ornate water fountain and watched the cars pass by. Several police cars. A few news vans.

Lúcio rested his elbows on his thighs and rubbed at his shoulders. He felt cold. He turned to Roadhog. “Do you know where he went?”

He was met with silence. Roadhog continued to clean his gun, the cloth nearly black.

“I didn’t mean what I said to him. Y’know that… right?” Lúcio asked, hesitant, unsure.

Silence again.

“I was just angry. I said something I shouldn’t have,” Lúcio continued, fingers digging into his skin. “I wanna talk to him. Fuck, I _need_ to. I gotta apologize.”

Roadhog huffed and Lúcio whipped his head in his direction.

“No, I don’t… I don’t really think that,” Lúcio said, eyebrows furrowed. “That goes for you too, ‘Hog. I don’t think that about you, either.”

Roadhog mumbled something, low and deep that no normal person would’ve been able to hear. But Lúcio had the ears for it, had heard it before after months and months spent with the two junkers. He bit his lip. Thought on it.

“He probably won’t forgive me,” Lúcio said. “He probably _hates_ me, but…” He went quiet. He thought of amber eyes. Warm touches. Kisses at midnight. Glances during missions. Leaning against each other. Intertwined hands. Cold metal. Warm skin.

 _Jamie_.

“But I love him,” Lúcio said, looking down at his green sneakers. The thought made him smile, made tears prick at the corner of his eyes. He wanted to tell him that. He wanted to tell him _everything_.

But he **_needed_** him to listen. He needed a chance to set things right, and then…

Roadhog got up, scrap gun in its holster and hook in his left hand. He turned, looked down at Lúcio, and muttered something.

Lúcio was on his feet in an instant. “I’m going with you,” he said. Determined. Hopeful. … Confused. “Wait, where are we going?”

Roadhog chuckled, his large belly shaking with the movement. When he spoke, his voice was clear as day, deep and loud enough for Lúcio to hear.

“ _King’s Row_.”

-

Junkrat wasn’t fond of hypertrains, the prissy crowd, the uppity stares, the long hours in a cramped space. It was only five hours this time, but he’d prefer to feel the wind whipping at his face, the smell of fresh air, the scenery passing by in blurs of mixed colors and shapes.

The only thing he saw was luggage, a flashlight and an assortment of wires and screws.

Junkrat shifted, metal fingers pulling at wires and stretching them out, checking the length. His teeth were clamped down on the back of the flashlight, angling it so he could get a good look at his work. Just as he was about to cut the wire, the train shifted from side to side, making him miss the mark.

Too short. He’d have to start over.

Junkrat had an idea of how much time had passed and he needed to finish quickly. They’d be in London soon enough, and he needed to hightail it off the train and into the crowds of people before the cops spotted him. It wasn’t like they’d be able to _catch_ him, but he’d been running a lot after his show in Numbani and he wanted to sneak away this time, save his strength.

Numbani…

Junkrat frowned, the flashlight nearly falling out of his mouth. He clenched his teeth and held it, readjusted himself, went back to pulling wires and cutting them at the right lengths. He hated that city. Omnics all over the place, freedom and happiness and sunshine and _bullshit_. People were so stupid. How could they forget about the war? About the _thousands_ of people that died fighting those stupid bots?

Why were they so willing to live in the same place as them? To stand side by side with omnics?

Idiots.

It was one of Lúcio’s favorite cities, Junkrat remembered. He always got a sparkle in his eye when it was mentioned, when they got sent there on missions. Junkrat didn’t understand it, didn’t get his way of thinking. Sure, everybody was free, but in the blink of an eye an omnic could turn on you and take away your freedom, shatter your illusion of peace and love and leave nothing but broken dreams in its wake.

Lúcio hadn’t seen what he’d seen. Hadn’t seen the wasteland of Australia. Hadn’t felt the grueling heat. Hadn’t dealt with survival. People were wild and feral and animalistic in Australia, covered in dirt and sweat and losing their humanity, too focused on themselves and adapting to the new way of life. Radiation in the air. Hair falling out. Bumps and bruises and blemishes. Sickness and starvation and death. Bones and graves.

Junkrat was the way he was because he _had_ to be. He had to survive and when the chance came, he got the _fuck_ out of there.

He’d learned plenty in his time there. Survived on his skills with explosives, tinkering with scraps and metal and building it into something useful. Learned how to think quickly, run fast, don’t look back.

The sound of gunshots and laughter still haunted him to this day. A shiny, silver belt buckle. A long, black braid that moved with the dry breeze.

Junkrat pulled himself back to the present, forced his hands back into motion. That was over. He had other shit to deal with. Like fixing this land mine and making sure it worked. Rummaging through more luggage for jewelry and small pieces of technology that he could break apart and turn into something new.

Thinking about panicked brown eyes and desperate cries.

His hands froze again, grip going lax, the pair of wire cutters dropping to the floor with a clatter.

_I guess you can’t change who you really are._

Junkrat scowled, took the flashlight out of his mouth and glared down at his dirty boot.

He didn’t want to change. He was _good_ at what he did. After spending all those years in a wasteland, who could blame him for wanting to go a little crazy? Stealing money, toys, food, and causing the occasional explosion. It wasn’t _that_ bad, was it? That’s what he had to do back in Australia. Steal. Distract. _Run_.

Working at Overwatch was a way to somewhat control those urges. Getting paid to demolish buildings, set up explosives, kick ass; it was a dream come true. Got free room and board. A workspace. Hell, he’d even snagged himself a boyfriend while he was there.  
Too bad that boyfriend turned out to be a goody-goody, backstabbing, short, _asshole_ who was _really_ good at giving head and was funny and treated Junkrat like he was the best thing in the world…

But that didn’t matter anymore.

Their relationship had gone up in smoke the minute Lúcio had uttered those words. The second Junkrat had pressed the button on his detonator and watched as large buildings turned into rubble and debris.

He couldn’t go back to that group. He couldn’t go back to Lúcio.

Not after what he’d done.

He didn’t _want_ to, either. They were all a bunch of pricks who’d just give him a hard time, side with Lúcio and say, yeah, he was a criminal. Focus on his crimes instead of his good deeds. Forget about the time he saved that stupid cowboy’s life with a steel trap. The time he helped angel cakes out of a bind by detonating a mine and flying through the air.

They’d forget all about that and scold him, chastise him about the people he’d killed.

If that’s what everyone thought, if that’s the part they wanted him to play, who was he to say no?

Junkrat would put all the other so called ‘criminals’ to shame. He’d set a new standard, amaze and astound as cities went up in flames.

The conductor announced their arrival over the intercoms. Junkrat hastily picked up his flashlight and wire cutters, making a few quick snips before stuffing tools and pieces of metal back into his pockets.

Numbani had been the opening act.

London would be the _real_ headliner.

-

Dark night. Cobblestones. Rain. Puddles. Reflections. Dim lights. Graffiti. Quiet footsteps. Metal hook. Chain. Heavy breathing.

King's Row.

Lúcio had only been here a few times before. He'd held a concert in London during his world tour a year ago. The turnout had been _amazing._ Every seat filled, people standing outside the stadium just to hear his music. He wanted to return, plan another show with a larger venue.

If he and Roadhog didn't find Junkrat quickly, there might not _be_ a large enough place for him to perform in.

Lúcio didn't think Junkrat would cause such destruction on such a massive scale, but Numbani had proved him wrong. The city and its people would feel and see the damage from Junkrat’s actions for years to come.

 _And_ , Lúcio thought for the sixteenth time that night, _it's my fault._

The search for Junkrat was proving to be… difficult. He and Roadhog had started their search in the back alleys and questionable parts of the city. The graffiti—riddled with obscenities and cursing omnics—was enough to make Lúcio feel uncomfortable and unwelcome, though he wasn't one himself.

They were looking for someone. Someone that Roadhog and Junkrat had done business with before. Lúcio didn't ask what business it was specifically, but it probably concerned the jewels they had stolen.

“He’ll need supplies,” Roadhog had explained. “We follow that lead. We’ll find him.”

That was what Roadhog had said, but Lúcio had no idea how they were going to find some hidden, influential seller of illegal chemicals and materials. They seemed to be searching in the right area, but it wasn't like there was a huge arrow that pointed to their hideout.

Roadhog stopped suddenly, chest heaving, hook held tightly in his hand. Lúcio stopped beside him, curious, unsure but unwilling to question Roadhog and his methods.

Roadhog bent down and grabbed something with his massive hand. He righted himself, bringing the object closer so that he could inspect it. Lúcio leaned closer as well, but he soon wished he hadn't.

It was the head of an onmic, forcibly torn from the rest of its body. Sparks of electricity still flashed about, wires torn and useless, hanging where its neck should be. The five dots on its head that were normally a light blue were dull and grey.

It was cruel and _wrong_ and Lúcio couldn't stand it. He turned away, disgusted and angry.

“We’re gettin’ closer,” Roadhog rumbled, tossing the lifeless head aside. It fell to the ground with a clatter, rolling onto the cobblestone street and lying in the rain.

If they were searching for people who did such hideous things like that, Lúcio wasn't sure he wanted to meet them.

They continued on the small, cramped path, Lúcio pushing into Roadhog’s personal space. He could feel the cold metal of his hook against his arm, painful and deadly. He had seen what Roadhog could do with it, what he was capable of. Lúcio pressed himself further against the wet brick of a building to avoid feeling it further.

The street was littered with bits and pieces of omnic bodies, metal hands and feet, wires and cords. Sickening. _Horrendous_. Lúcio kept his eyes to the sky, his visor keeping the rain from getting into his eyes. He could understand why people were anti-omnic, why some held hatred and fear in their hearts for them, but this was too much.

He recalled the times Junkrat had mentioned doing something similiar, talking about how turning omnics into scrap metal was an enjoyable activity, something he was always happy to do. Lúcio would recoil, mutter under his breath that doing such a thing was cruel and Junkrat would fire back, arguing about the war, his homeland, his normal life that was _taken_ from him.

They’d fight and argue, both of them stubborn and holding tightly onto their beliefs until the mental and emotional exhaustion caught up with them. Lúcio would often be the first to give in, glancing away and saying he was tired of fighting. Junkrat would cross his arms, huff and quietly admit that he was, too.

The subject of omnics was an obstacle that the two of them were constantly working through in their relationship. It took time and patience, but they had made progress. Junkrat didn’t yell and shout every time they passed an omnic on the street. Instead of making Junkrat feel like his feelings were wrong or invalid, Lúcio had asked him to talk about it, tell him about his home and his life and his thoughts.

Lúcio looked back on those times fondly. They’d curl up together in his bed, holding hands and touching skin carefully, gently, as they spoke quietly into the night. The hours would slip away, going unnoticed by the two of them until light would suddenly shine on Lúcio’s face, sunlight streaming in through the window as morning came.

There might not be any more of those late nights.

It could all be over, and all Lúcio would have to look back on was memories.

So engrossed in his own thoughts and feelings, Lúcio hadn’t noticed that Roadhog had stopped walking a while ago. Lúcio turned on his heel, quickly skating back toward his companion. Roadhog was looking down an open tunnel, one that led to the subway. Lúcio craned his neck to try and see if he saw any abnormalities, anything that showed that the people they were looking for were down there. More omnic bodies, pieces scattered on the stairs that led down into the subway. Roadhog turned and started to descend the stairs, a huff coming from him with every step. Lúcio sighed, looked down at his skates, and started down the stairs as well.

The subway was empty. It was probably the criminal activity in the area that kept people away. There was even more graffiti on the walls, names of gangs and groups scrawled out in large, bright letters. Some of the graffiti was in French. If Lúcio was fluent in the language, he would’ve translated.  
They turned a corner, the sound of Lúcio’s skates echoing in the empty tunnel. Roadhog stopped abruptly, gripping his metal hook tightly. Lúcio came to stand beside him, looking up from the omnic parts scattered on the floor to the large, gaping hole in the tunnel that was obviously not supposed to be there.

Roadhog stepped closer, a massive hand touching at the brick and debris. The explosion hadn’t happened too long ago. There was still smoke coming out of the hole, the smell of fire and dust hitting Lúcio’s nose like a truck. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed it before. Likely too distracted by graffiti and omnics.

After rubbing the dust between his fingers, Roadhog stepped through the hole, motioning with a hand for Lúcio to follow.

Broken crates and containers lined the walls of the small tunnel. More graffiti on the walls, more broken omnics. It was when he started to see human bodies that Lúcio started to really panic.

Roadhog stopped, looked down at a man that was groaning, his stomach coated with blood. Lúcio turned up the volume on his weapon, sweet notes and mellow tones echoing off the walls and filling the small space with healing and light. The man coughed, opened his eyes, and then grunted in protest when Roadhog roughly picked him up by the neck.

“Whoa—hey man! Lemme go!” he shouted, hands futilely gripping Roadhog’s wrist, nails scratching at his skin.

“ _Where is he_?” Roadhog growled, low and deep. The man struggled helplessly, legs kicking at Roadhog’s knees. That didn’t work. Roadhog only held him tighter, wanting an answer.

“W-who?” the man asked, clearly confused. Roadhog cocked his head to the hole in the wall, the one that had been forcibly made. The man gulped. “Y-you mean the little shit-faced goblin? The one who did this?”

Roadhog lessened the hold he had on the man, waiting for an answer.

The man coughed again, gathering his wits. “I-I dunno! He barged in here, threw grenades, took all our stuff, and then said somethin’ about the Underworld!”

Roadhog abruptly let the man go, dropping him to the hard concrete without a second thought. Lúcio was speechless. The _Underworld_? The omnic city that rested beneath the cobblestone streets of King’s Row?

Junkrat was going to destroy it?

Lúcio’s heart pounded in his chest, sweat breaking out on his forehead and neck. An explosion like that would cause damage topside as well, leveling buildings, killing people, utter chaos.

“We gotta stop him,” Lúcio whispered, voice small and afraid. He looked to Roadhog, panic in his voice. “We gotta stop him, ‘Hog! He’s _better_ than this. He just—he’s _confused_ and—!”  

Roadhog placed a hand on Lúcio’s shoulder, steadying him, bringing him back to the present, to the moment. Lúcio looked up at him, into the holes in his mask where he could just _barely_ make out Roadhog’s eyes.

“Underworld,” Roadhog said, before sidestepping Lúcio and making his way back up the tunnel. The sound of his chain drifting further away.

Lúcio looked at the man on the ground, watched him as he looked down at his slowly closing wound. He looked to Lúcio, confused but thankful.

When the blood flow had stopped, when the man could get to his feet without strain or complaint, Lúcio turned and left the tunnel as well.

-

Fire. Heat. Metal. Electricity. Sparks. Steam. Omnics.

The Underworld.

Lúcio had never seen it before. It troubled him that omnics were so set apart, that they were forced into a place they didn’t want to be. They passed a few as they walked, some of them waving a hand in greeting.

Lúcio waved back.

Roadhog didn’t.

They knew Junkrat was here somewhere, but Lúcio thought they should start evacuating everyone in case they didn’t find him in time. Roadhog had shook his head, had insisted that they’d find him. “It’ll take a while to set everything up,” he’d said. Lúcio agreed, but Junkrat was quick with his fingers. Once he started, he didn’t stop until he was finished.

But he was here somewhere. Hiding amongst boxes and crates or huddled in a corner, he was _here._

They started searching.

Skates a bright neon green, Lúcio covered more ground than Roadhog did. He was able to move faster, scope out a large area. Roadhog looked into the small rooms and hidden places for a familiar mop of blonde hair. Lúcio kept his eyes and ears open, listening for that unique laugh that he loved.

He jumped up onto walls, skating on them with expertise as he scanned the area below, eyes squinted behind his visor. Something caught his eye, finally, and he jumped down, landing onto sheet metal.

There were wires on the ground, leading further down the path to the Underworld. Lúcio’s heart started to race, following the wires the opposite direction, toward the source. That was a fuse, which meant Junkrat couldn’t be that far away. He caught Roadhog’s eye and made a quick motion for him to follow.

They started walking, careful to avoid stepping on the wires they were following in case they triggered something. They turned a corner, then another, until they were back onto cobblestone streets. The cords were _long_ which meant the explosion was going to be **huge**.

Lúcio turned up the volume on his song, he and Roadhog moving much faster now than they had been previously.

They kept straight for a minute or so when something caught Lúcio’s eye. A faint trail of smoke in the air, the familiar sound of hushed giggles. A frustrated grunt. Mumbling.

 _Jamie_.

Lúcio moved as fast as his skates would allow, skidding slightly as he turned the corner.

There sat Junkrat, surrounded by tools, small boxes and other assorted things. He was tinkering with something, a screwdriver in his hand and some kind of glowing device in the other.

Lúcio’s legs propelled him forward, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, hands balled into fists, heart pounding in his ears.

Junkrat looked up at the sound of skates on cobblestone and froze, shocked, confused and then out of breath as Lúcio collided with him and pushed him to the ground.

“Ow, _fuck_! What the _hell—_!”

“We found you! Fuck, thank _god_ we did,” Lúcio breathed, his face in the crook of Junkrat’s neck. The familiar smell bringing back memories, the feeling of his skin making Lúcio’s head hazy.

Jamie. Jamie! _Jamie!_

“Get off a’me!” Junkrat shouted, pushing at Lúcio’s shoulders. “You’re messin’ up my work!”

Lúcio placed his hands on either side of Junkrat’s head and looked down at him. He was still shocked, still angry, but there was something else in those amber eyes. Lúcio could see it, no matter how hard Junkrat tried to hide it.

Lúcio smiled, bright and charming, flashing his perfectly white teeth.

Then he punched Junkrat _hard_ on the shoulder.

“ _Fuck_!” Junkrat exclaimed, immediately holding his shoulder to try and soothe the pain. “What the—You’ve got some nerve just showin’ up and—”

“No, you listen to me,” Lúcio interrupted, eyes narrowed, voice low. “You didn’t listen before, but you’re going to now.”

“Why should—”

“ _Shut_. _Up_.” Lúcio seethed, his tone changing. Demanding. Powerful. _Serious_.

Junkrat closed his mouth, recognizing that tone.

Lúcio took a breath, held it, then released it slowly. He had to be careful. He wanted to say how he felt, but he didn’t want anything he said to be misunderstood.

“I didn’t mean what I said before,” Lúcio started, expression softening. “About you always being a criminal. You’ve shown me—shown _everyone_ in the past few months that you can change, that you’re more than that. That you’re _better_ than that.”

Junkrat said nothing but his expression changed from annoyance to something more solemn. A frown pulled at his lips. Lúcio wanted to touch him, to touch at the crease of his lips and kiss him until he was a giggling, giddy mess in his arms. He wanted to whisper sweet things in his ear, tell what was on his mind, on his heart. How he really felt.

No, not yet.

“The missions we went on, when we helped people, _saved_ people. You liked that, didn’t you?” Lúcio asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer. He already knew. “You’ve got amazing talent, Jamie. You’re _great_ at what you do, and you liked using your abilities and skills to better the world. You’ve never had a chance to before, but that group _allowed_ you to.”

Lúcio swallowed, pushing through the torrent of emotions he felt to continue. “I think you’re a hero, Jamie. You’ve shown me that time and time again.”

“You’re _lyin'_ ,” Junkrat said, voice quiet, anger lighting a fire in his eyes. “You say that, but I know you think deep down that I’m a no-good—”

“I don’t think that!” Lúcio interrupted, his hands balled into fists. “I think you’re making progress, making strides to who you truly want to be. You’ve got some bad habits to break, but you’re getting there, Jamie. I was just…” Lúcio sighed, looking away. “I was _wrong_. I was mad and frustrated and the words just spilled out. I didn’t _mean_ them. I’m… sorry.”

Junkrat went quiet again, letting go of his shoulder and letting his metal hand fall to the ground.

They went silent, the sound of rain and Roadhog’s heavy breathing filling the quiet between them. Somehow, Junkrat had managed to stay mostly dry. There was a small covering above the space they were occupying, and Lúcio was thankful for it. He would probably get sick after spending so much time in the rain, but he didn’t care.

“‘M’not a hero,” Junkrat whispered, interrupting the silence. “Not after Numbani…”

Right. Numbani.

“You did that because of me, right?” Lúcio asked, expression somber.

Junkrat nodded and then… stopped. “Mostly ‘cuz of you, but… for me, too. I liked it. Causin’ that much chaos. The fire, the _explosions_.”

“The killing?” Lúcio asked.

Junkrat whipped his head, turned to look at him. “I didn’t—Most of ‘em were omnics, anyway.”

“That’s no excuse,” Lúcio said, growing angry. “You took _innocent_ lives, Jamie. That’s not okay.”

Junkrat huffed, turned his head away again. Quietly, softly, he muttered, “I know…”

Lúcio realized that Junkrat was probably beating himself up over that, now that it was over. Now that the explosions were gone, the fires put out and the chaos ended. He had been left alone with his thoughts and had to deal with his actions, face the consequences. It put Lúcio in an odd position. Yes, Junkrat had messed up. The lives he had taken would never be replaced, the pain and hurt and suffering would be there for years. But it was partly Lúcio’s fault. If he hadn’t said something so careless and hurtful, Junkrat wouldn’t have…

Lúcio sighed, sitting back on his haunches and placing his hands in his lap. Junkrat’s legs were on either side of him and he could’ve moved if he wanted, but he just stayed there, oddly quiet and still.

No one at Overwatch was completely innocent. They had all done things they shouldn’t have, they all had regrets. More than half of them made mistakes, had to take lives,  miscalculations, but they didn’t encourage hurting innocents. They didn’t advocate senseless violence.

Junkrat knew he’d done wrong, which was the first step.

“Y’know, when you’ve hit rock bottom, the only way to go… is up,” Lúcio said, voice quiet, nearly overshadowed by the pouring rain. He reached out and patted Junkrat’s left knee, his hands wet with rain. “You can still be a hero, Jamie. It’s not too late.”

Junkrat said nothing, but he was clearly thinking on Lúcio’s words. His jaw was set tight, a grimace on his face. He looked conflicted, unsure, angry, frustrated. Lúcio wanted to reach down and ease the furrow of his brow, to kiss away his troubling feelings, but it was something that Junkrat had to figure out and accept on his own. He had to decide for himself which path to take, which road to follow.

The sound of police sirens in the distance caused them both to tense.

“The fuck? Did you call the cops?” Junkrat asked, sitting up quickly and glaring at Lúcio.

“No, I didn’t, but with that explosion you caused in the subway earlier and all the wires leading to the Underworld, I’m sure someone figured _somethin’_ was going on,” Lúcio realized, getting to his feet. He held a hand out for Junkrat, but it was ignored, Junkrat getting up on his own.

He was still mad. A simple apology wasn’t enough.

“Oi, ‘Hog, hand me that, would ya?” Junkrat asked, pointing to a plastic cannister not too far from where Roadhog was standing.

Roadhog picked it up easily, liquid splashing and moving about. Junkrat took it with a quick ‘ta, mate’, and headed out into the rain. He looked toward the sky and scowled, his hair soaking wet now and covering one of his eyes.

The sirens were getting closer, the bright lights showing on the nearby buildings.

“Get ready to go, Roadie. Only got a quick minute. Rain’s gonna dillute it,” Junkrat said, starting to pour the canister out onto the cobblestone street. He walked in a line, spreading the liquid evenly.

From where he was, Lúcio could pretty easily tell that it was gasoline from the strong odor it emitted. What was Junkrat _doing_?

“Uh, Jamie—”

“You were the one that led him here, huh? Shoulda known you’d help him out,” Junkrat continued, speaking with Roadhog like the sirens weren’t of any concern to him.

Lúcio started to panic. The cops were coming and Junkrat still had fuses that would do _something_ unless taken care of and he was pouring gasoline on the street in the _rain_ and—

“Are you planning on telling me what you’re doing?” Lúcio asked, voice coming out louder than he meant. Both Junkrat and Roadhog looked to him, the former crossing his arms.

“I’m still mad at ya, heatfrog. An apology ain’t gonna fix things,” Junkrat said, blonde hair framing his face nicely.

Lúcio found that Junkrat looked beautiful in the rain, even when he was frowning and clearly displeased.

“I’m makin’ a distraction,” Junkrat continued, stepping back under the cover of his little hideout. He stuffed everything into the backpack he’d stolen from the group hidden in the subway tunnels. Before he heaved it over his shoulder, he used a pair of wire cutters to snip the fuses that lead to the Underworld.

“Wait, is that all you need to do?” Lúcio asked, wanting to make sure no more explosions would happen. Junkrat turned toward him, one eyebrow raised.

“ _Yeah_ , that’s all. Unless I’m forgettin’ somethin’.” Junkrat paused, taking a moment to think. The sirens were incredibly close now and Lúcio shifted on his skates, growing uneasy.

Junkrat shrugged. “Eh, should be enough. Ten sticks of dynamite—”

“ _Dynamite?_ You were going to use dynamite?” Lúcio asked, incredulous.

Junkrat nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t have time to make a proper bomb. Dynamite woulda done the job, but since I just cut the fuse, it _should_ be fine… Probably. Cops’ll take care of it.”

Lúcio couldn’t argue or question Junkrat further. The cops were here, the sound of shouting and car doors slamming being heard.

“Right then! Let’s go, ‘Hog,” Junkrat said, pulling out a match from his pocket. He lit it with his metal hand, Lúcio wasn’t sure how, and then tossed it onto the ground.

The fire was small compared to how it normally would’ve been if the ground had been dry, but there was a trail of fire nonetheless. Lúcio moved away from it, the heat bothering him and making him uncomfortable.

Junkrat stood incredibly close to it, unbothered by the temperature. It casted a glow on his face, red lighting up amber and illuminating his skin.

On one side of the fire was Junkrat and Roadhog, all packed and ready to go. On the other was Lúcio, confused and unsure.

“Jamie, wait,” Lúcio said, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not…? Aren’t you coming back with me?”

“Can’t, sunshine,” Junkrat said, the pet name falling easily from his lips. “They won’t take me back, no matter how much you beg, no matter how hard ya plead my case. I’m done with them.”

Lúcio drew back, stunned. It was like he had been slapped in the face. He knew this was a possibility, that the times with Junkrat in Gibraltar could fade away and become only memories.

But now it was happening, and Lúcio couldn’t stand the way his heart was twisting and distorting in his chest.

“Then… where are you going?” Lúcio asked, voice quiet.

Loud footsteps on the cobblestone streets. Shouts growing louder, closer.

“Wherever I want,” Junkrat said, the fire dying down slightly. “Might rob a few banks, steal some stuffed toys for the big guy over here or…” Junkrat sighed, crossing his arms. “Might give the hero thing a try.”

A smile flashed across Lúcio’s face for a just a moment, but it was replaced by hesitance.

Junkrat and Roadhog were leaving, going off on their own.

What should he do?

The fire dwindled down even more, smoke filling the air.

“Looks like ya got a choice to make,” Junkrat said, adjusting the backpack on his shoulder.

Roadhog grunted, placed his large hand on Junkrat’s head.

“Yeah, I got it, I know,” Junkrat mumbled, looking at Lúcio one more time before he turned and started to walk away. Roadhog walked beside him, the two junkers taking their leave before they had to fight their way through cops.

Lúcio stood frozen on the street, feeling anxious and sick to his stomach.

He _wanted_ to go with them, but he had made arrangements with the group in Gibraltar. He liked helping them out with missions and assignments. They needed him.

But Junkrat needed him, too.

He thought about the hotel, what he had told Roadhog as they sat on the steps.

He _still_ hadn’t told Jamie.

The cops were at his back now, smoke and fire in the air. Lúcio stared past the flames, just barely making out Junkrat’s light blonde hair. It was now or never. He had to choose, make a decision and stick with it. His hands shook at his sides, a pained expression on his face.

Smoke trailed from the fire into the air, embers tapering off and dispersing into nothing. The steady rainfall transitioned into a light sprinkling and then slowly stopped.

The moon peaked out from behind the clouds.

-

“You have a message, Winston,” Athena spoke. “Would you like me to open it for you?”

“Yes, thank you, Athena,” Winston replied, walking over to the computer and taking a seat in the large tire. A few pages closed on the screen while a new one opened.

It was Winston’s email, filled to the brim with important documents and happenings from people scattered all over the world. He used the connections he had formed years ago to gather information and aid in missions and assignments.

One connection was proving to be more fruitful than the others.

Winston tapped on the light blue ‘open’ button with a large finger. A lengthy message appeared, filled to the brim with details and answers to questions that Winston desperately needed. He started reading, taking notes in a separate window and already forming plans in his head.

When he was finished, he sat back, stretching his arms above his head. “Hm, looks like they’re doing alright,” he said to himself.

The email was simply signed ‘The Junkers’. But next to that, there was a small symbol.

A smiling frog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a good prompt and I feel like I didn't give it enough justice, but for prompts like this, it kinda requires the attention of a full fic.


	7. Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked about an AU where Lúcio is deaf and Junkrat trying to learn sign language.

“Ah, fuck, wait,” Junkrat fiddles with his hands, shifts in his seat, stumbles over himself. He didn’t even know his fingers could _bend_ that way. He looks up again, squints at brown fingers, studies them, and then looks down at his own. “ _Fuck_.”

Lúcio smiles and moves his hands out of the position they’d been stuck in for the past ten minutes. He brings the notepad and pen on the table closer to himself, scribbles down a sentence and then pushes the notepad toward Junkrat.

Junkrat squints at that, too. “I… did? I had it right?” Lúcio nods, reading his lips as clear and concise as words on paper. “Really? My hands looked _nothin_ ’ like yours.”

Lúcio picks up the pen again and writes something else, something encouraging and sweet. He pushes the notepad toward Junkrat again, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as the junker reads the words for himself.

Junkrat blushes and rubs at the back of his neck. “Y-you think so?”

Lúcio nods again.

Junkrat smiles, shyly and bashfully. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it at the last second. He lifts his left hand to his mouth, presses his fingertips against his lips and then lowers his hand in Lúcio’s direction. “Thanks, mate,” he mumbles.

The smile that breaks out on Lúcio’s face is overwhelming, bright and beautiful and almost too much for Junkrat to handle. He slouches in his seat, feeling mushy and hot and silly.

Lúcio laughs, brown eyes bright and pure. He lifts his hands and makes a sign that he’d taught Junkrat earlier.

“ _You’re welcome_.”

-

“You can’t _hear_ music, right?” Junkrat asks, swirling the tea around in his cup. “So how do ya…” he makes a gesture, hoping that Lúcio would be able to figure out what he’s trying to say. It’s made more difficult by the fact that Junkrat isn’t fluent in sign language yet, but he’s made progress. He knows all the basic greetings and the alphabet. He could just _spell_ what he wants to say, but that would take forever.

Lúcio purses his lips, twirls a pen around in his hand. He thinks for a moment before starting to jot down his answer.

Junkrat just watches, sipping his tea and tapping his foot against the floor.

The notepad is pushed over to him and he looks over the neat handwriting, raising an eyebrow. “You can _feel_ it? What’s that mean?”

Lúcio snorts, smiles and makes a few signs. His hands move slowly enough for Junkrat to read what he’s saying, but he has to go over the motions again in his head in order to piece the words together in a sentence. “Feels… light? _What?_ You’re not makin’ sense, mate.”

Instead of growing frustrated or annoyed, Lúcio just laughs quietly under his breath. He thinks for a moment, accidentally brushing his foot against Junkrat’s but not moving it away. He lifts his hands and signs, fingers moving with practiced ease.

“ _Let me show you what I mean_.”

-

Lúcio’s room is neater than what Junkrat thought it would be. There’s no dirty clothes on the floor, no soda cans or potato chip bags. Just clean, pristine and colorful. There’s music playing and the window is open, the sound of seagulls a terrible accompaniment to the steady beats and mellow tones of the song. Lúcio takes his hand and brings him over to his bed, sits him down.

Lúcio makes a quick sign with one hand. “ _Close your eyes_ ,” he says, and Junkrat obeys.

All he hears are the seagulls, their loud squawks and caws annoying the fuck out of him. Then Lúcio takes his hands, squeezes them, and Junkrat lets out a breath and focuses on the music.

At first, he doesn’t feel anything. He just hears the instruments and the rhythm and debates pulling away and telling Lúcio he’s a lost cause. But as the music continues and the tempo increases, he feels… _something_. Something fast and light. Happy. It’s not loud and booming like the sounds he likes, like the sounds he’s used to, but he can appreciate how it makes him feel.

It’s relaxing. Soothing. Airy. It reminds him of boba tea and lit matches. Screwdrivers and band-aids.

Junkrat squeezes Lúcio’s hands, opens his eyes and grins when he sees Lúcio staring back at him in question. He takes his hands back and signs a few words, clumsy and terribly slow, but Lúcio is patient, as always.

“ _I feel it, too_.”

Lúcio beams, takes Junkrat’s hands and intertwines their fingers.

Junkrat giggles nervously, opening his mouth to say something but being cut off by Lúcio leaning forward and connecting their lips. The kiss is sweet and and bright and _bursting_ with things that Junkrat isn’t sure he understands. He kisses back anyway, closes his eyes and squeezes Lúcio’s hands in return.

The sound of seagulls fades away, replaced by cheerful music and soft, brown lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arguments though. Lúcio signing furiously while Junkrat tries his hardest to read what he's saying and just ends up lost lmfao.


	8. Autumn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked about Lúcio and ex-boyfriends and since that's like a thing that often happens, I thought I'd give it a go.

They had just bought the tea and half of it was gone already.

It was probably the sound of fallen leaves scraping against the concrete, scratchy and irritating to the ears. Or maybe it was the chilly wind that blew his hair around annoyingly and pushed Lúcio further into his left side. Or maybe it was the way Lúcio was holding his hand, tightly, securely, his thumb rubbing against Junkrat’s.

He was nervous. Seven months and he _still_ got nervous around Lúcio.

“Can I have some?” Lúcio asked, squeezing his hand and moving away from Junkrat’s arm to look up at him.

Junkrat stopped nervously slurping the tea and took the straw out of his mouth. He handed the drink down to Lúcio, still not over how short he was.

Lúcio took it, looked at the contents and snorted. “There’s barely any left. Were you _that_ thirsty?”

Junkrat adjusted his large black and red plaid shirt, pulling the collar up with his free hand to keep his neck warm. “Guess so,” he said, shrugging.

Lúcio either didn’t notice his flustered state or chose not to comment on it. “I won’t drink it all,” he said before taking the straw into his mouth. He leaned his head back onto Junkrat’s arm and they continued down the sidewalk.

Another strong breeze prompted Lúcio to stop, Junkrat looking at him in question. He handed Junkrat his drink back and pulled up the hood on his dark blue hoodie, sniffling and rubbing his nose.

“You sick?” Junkrat asked, growing concerned, blaming himself since it was _his_ suggestion they go out and get tea instead of making it themselves.

Lúcio smiled at him. “Nah, I’m fine. Just chilly, y’know?”

Junkrat tried to think of something he could do, some cliché boyfriend thing that would warm Lúcio up. He let go of his hand, ignoring the crestfallen look Lúcio gave him to instead wrap his arm around Lúcio’s shoulders. Considering their difference in height, it wasn’t _that_ successful. Lúcio didn’t seem to mind and pressed his face against Junkrat’s side, one of his arms circling Junkrat’s waist.

It felt nice, like something he’d seen in one of those romantic movies Lúcio sometimes watched. Junkrat returned to slurping nervously at his tea, his ears feeling hot and a fluttery feeling in his chest. Maybe he—

“Lúce? That you?”

The sweet moment was ruined, _trampled_ by a lean looking guy with curly black hair and a nose piercing.

Junkrat felt Lúcio tense beside him.

“Em?” Lúcio said, voice quiet. His hand tightened around Junkrat’s waist.

‘Em’ let out a laugh, coming closer. “It _is_ you! It’s hard to tell with that hood on. Can barely see your pretty dreads. You been takin’ care of ‘em?”

The familiarity in which this… ‘Em’ person addressed Lúcio clued Junkrat in to the fact that no, he wasn’t another fan wanting an autograph. He was someone that Lúcio _knew._ Someone that he’d spent a fair amount of time with. Lúcio had never mentioned someone named ‘Em’ to him. Junkrat felt an old familiar feeling settle in the pit of his stomach. He felt Lúcio start to move, possibly to hug or give ‘Em’ a handshake or something. Junkrat kept his arm around his shoulder tightly, possessively. He wasn’t going _anywhere_.

“It’s good to see you,” Lúcio said instead, thumb rubbing at Junkrat’s shirt. A gesture of reassurance. Junkrat was too busy glaring at ‘Em’ to focus on it.

“Yeah! It’s been a while,” ‘Em’ said, hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans. He was dressed quite fashionably, well-groomed and clean.  There were several tattoos on his right arm and shoulder, black and red ink showing up nicely on light-brown skin. He wasn’t that bad looking, not that Junkrat would ever admit that aloud.  

Lúcio shifted on his feet, clearing his throat and motioning to Junkrat. “So, Emilio, this is my boyfriend, Jamie.” For the first time since he’d appeared, Emilio glanced at Junkrat with an uninterested expression. Junkrat withheld the urge to flip the dude off. “And Jamie, this is Emilio, my ex.”

All the pieces came crashing together, Junkrat’s eyes narrowing and his fingers digging into Lúcio’s shoulder. _Now_ it made sense. The nicknames, the familiarity.

Emilio was a threat. One that Junkrat had no problem getting rid of.

“It’s a pleasure,” Emilio said, though the tone of his voice was very unenthused.

Junkrat didn’t so much as smile. “Likewise, mate.”

Lúcio gripped at his shirt and started to tug.

“So, Lúce,” Emilio started, a charming smile plastered on his face. “Maybe we can meet up later? Catch up? I know you’re busy and all so—”

Junkrat slurped noisily at his tea, the cup empty save for the few pieces of boba scattered about. He didn’t care. All he cared about was getting Emilio as _far_ away from Lúcio as possible. There was no way in _hell_ Junkrat was just going to stand by and _watch_ as the greatest thing in the world was taken away from him. All it would take was _one minute_ alone with Emilio, and Lúcio would open his eyes. Realize how much better it was to be with a person who had all their limbs. Who wasn’t obsessed with bombs and explosions and the beautiful sounds they made. Someone who wasn’t dirty and frantic and spastic and… _off._

Junkrat wasn’t going to let _Emilio_ show up and ruin the best seven months of his life.

An empty cup of boba tea flew through the air and hit Emilio _square_ in the face, interrupting whatever bullshit he’d been feeding into Lúcio’s ear.

Emilio sputtered, stepped back, wiped at his face and looked up at Junkrat in shock and anger. “Dude, what the _fuck?_ What’s your—”

“Yer lucky it was just a cup this time, mate,” Junkrat said, reaching into the pocket of his khaki shorts and pulling out a small grenade. “Now, how about ya _skedaddle_ before this ‘nade finds its way in yer mouth?”

“ _Jamie!_ ” Lúcio exclaimed, eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a disapproving frown.

Junkrat would worry about the consequences later. He needed to focus on protecting what was _his_.

“Is this a joke?” Emilio asked, laughing to cover up the nervous tremble in his voice. He stood up straight, adjusted his shirt and glared at Junkrat. “Didn’t know _douchebags_ like this were your type, Lúce. But I guess after me, you’d _have_ to settle for less.”

Lúcio turned his disapproving glare in Emilio’s direction. “Em, he’s not--”

Junkrat shrugged and lifted the grenade to his metal hand, the tip of his index finger flicking back and exposing a flame, much like a cigarette lighter. The fuse was lit, the clock started ticking, and Emilio looked like he was about to piss himself.

“Open your mouth again,” Junkrat started, inching closer with his lit grenade in hand, “and we’ll see if it’s a joke or not, ya _cunt_.”

Emilio stared wide-eyed at yellow grenade with a smiley face poorly painted onto it. He glanced at Junkrat then at Lúcio and finally to the grenade again before he turned on his heel and abruptly high-tailed it outta there.

Junkrat put out the fuse with his hand, the anticipation he had felt in his chest subsiding. It was certainly a shame to put _out_ a bomb instead of seeing it go off. Just wasn’t right.

“You wanna explain to me _why_ you threatened an innocent person’s life? A person I _knew_?” Lúcio asked, arms crossed, serious expression.

Junkrat put the grenade back in his pocket and matched Lúcio’s glare the best he could. “He wasn’t innocent. He was tryin’ to get ya back! It was _obvious_.”

Lúcio scoffed, rolling his eyes. “No, he _wasn’t_ —”

“He _bloody_ asked to get **_drinks_** with you!” Junkrat shouted, hands splayed in front of him. “And did you see the way he was lookin’ at ya? He was still smitten. Still hooked on that cock a yours.”

Lúcio sighed, lowering his hands and looking at Junkrat with an expression that seemed sympathetic or pitying or _something_. “Jamie—”

“No, don’t you ‘ _Jamie_ ’ me. He was hittin’ on you _in front_ of me, and if you think for **_one second_** I’m just gonna stand aside and let some _dipstick_ take—!” Junkrat closed his mouth quickly, nearly biting his tongue. He’d almost said too much. If Lúcio found out, he’d never hear the end of it. They’d probably break up. They would. They _would_ break up. Lúcio wouldn’t want to be with someone so insecure and petty and possessive. The thought stirred up all kinds of unpleasant feelings and Junkrat turned, staring down at the sidewalk and trying not to think about how their relationship could end in a millisecond.

“Jamie? What were you goin’ to say?” Lúcio asked, his voice quiet compared to before.

Junkrat kept quiet and still. He balled his hands into fists, afraid that if he opened his mouth, he’d say something that could destroy it all. He heard the sound of Lúcio’s footsteps on the sidewalk and blinked as the shorter man came to stand in front of him.

“Take what?” Lúcio asked, hands gripping at the end of Junkrat’s plaid shirt. His question was met with only silence, which meant Lúcio had to put the pieces together himself.

Junkrat watched as the gears started to turn, as Lúcio licked his lips and obtained a pensive expression, as he played with a few loose strings hanging off of Junkrat’s shirt.

“Take _me_?” Lúcio asked finally.

Junkrat said nothing, but he made the mistake of looking into Lúcio’s eyes and that was all the answer he needed.

“Hey, Jamie,” Lúcio started, following after Junkrat as he started to pull away. “Hey, no, listen to me.”

Junkrat put a little distance between them, but grabbed Lúcio’s hand as some kind of consolation. There were too many people around. Too many eyes and ears and he didn’t want to talk about something so private in the open. He started moving, fidgeting, looking this way and that and before he started to feel the itch to blow something up, Lúcio intertwined their fingers and started to drag him down the sidewalk.

They turned corners, crossed streets and weaved through crowds. It was all a blur, a colorful, noisy blur that Junkrat didn’t focus on. He concentrated on the Lúcio’s hand and the warmth it gave him, inside and out.

When Junkrat came to his senses again they were behind a building in an alleyway. There wasn’t anyone around as far as he could tell, and the noise of traffic and various conversations was just a dull roar compared to the loud commotion it usually was.

Junkrat leaned back against the brick, the uncomfortable surface digging into his back.

Lúcio wasted no time in getting in front of him again, standing between his long legs and still holding his hand.

“How long have we been together?” Lúcio asked, letting go of Junkrat’s hands to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt.

Junkrat knew the answer. He was usually scatterbrained and forgetful and could never remember what he’d eaten for breakfast, lunch or dinner, but he remembered _that_. He couldn’t forget it. The number was so important and integral, and as it increased so did Junkrat’s confusion and insecurity.

“Seven months,” he answered, his breath catching as Lúcio undid the first few buttons of his shirt and the cool air hit his skin.

“Seven months,” Lúcio repeated, placing a kiss to his chest. His lips were so warm despite the chilly weather. “That’s almost a year.”

Five more months and it would be. Lúcio’s distracting kisses eased Junkrat’s mouth open. “Didn’t think we’d last this long,” he said.

“Why not?” Lúcio asked, wrapping his arms around Junkrat’s waist. He looked up at him, curious brown staring into tentative amber.

Junkrat swallowed. “‘Cuz, ‘m not exactly… anyone’s first choice,” he said, trying to play it off and sound nonchalant despite the crippling pain those words caused.

“You’re mine,” Lúcio replied easily, hands slipping under Junkrat’s shirt to press at his skin.

Junkrat was too flabbergasted by what Lúcio had just said to react to the touch. What did he _mean?_ Was he joking? Junkrat kept quiet, waiting for the inevitable punchline, but Lúcio just kept staring at him, fingers touching at the small of his back.

“Yer jokin’,” Junkrat said, because that was the only logical explanation.

Lúcio tilted his head. “I’m not. Why would I joke about that?”

The alleyway went quiet as Junkrat tried to come up with an answer to that question.

Lúcio wasn’t one to make harmful jokes. He didn’t like upsetting others or laughing at their expense. If he was joking, everyone knew and understood it. Junkrat knew that and it made sense but what _didn’t_ make sense was that he was— _somehow_ —Lúcio’s first choice.

That was impossible.

“You don’t like anyone else?” Junkrat asked, hands moving from his side to rest on Lúcio’s shoulders, playing with his hood and one of his long dreads.

“Not in the same way I like you,” Lúcio answered. He pressed closer to Junkrat and nuzzled his face in his chest. “I wouldn’t date anyone else, is what I’m sayin’.”

Junkrat paused again, heartbeat quickening as Lúcio placed kiss after kiss on his skin. He pulled Lúcio’s hood down and ran his fingers through his dreads. “Why not?”

Lúcio chuckled and paused in his kissing to look up at Junkrat again. “‘Cuz I wanna date _you_! That’s why I asked you out, Jamie. I don’t want anyone else.”

Junkrat narrowed his eyes and thinned his lips. “Right. Okay.” That was stupid, but whatever. There were so many other people out there, like fucking _Emilio_ with his nose piercing and curly hair, but Lúcio would rather have some filthy, dirt eating guy like him.

Lúcio laughed and stood up on his tiptoes so that he could cup Junrkat’s face. “Jamie, you are one _hot_ piece of ass and whenever I’m with you, I get so nervous and excited! I think about you all the time and…” Lúcio laughed again, light-hearted and pure and magical. “No one’s gonna take me from you. I’m yours and you’re _mine_.”

Junkrat didn’t know what to say to that. That’s exactly what he _wanted_ to hear, what he wanted to believe. It had come straight from Lúcio himself, but _still_ there was a part of Junkrat that knew better, that knew it was only a matter of time.

Thankfully, Lúcio always knew what to do, and he leaned forward and kissed Junkrat, effectively pulling him away from those thoughts.

He could feel Lúcio trembling slightly from having to stand on his tiptoes for so long, so Junkrat moved his hands to Lúcio’s waist, picked him up and turned so that Lúcio was pressed against the brick wall. Their kiss was interrupted, Lúcio gasping and wrapping his arms around Junkrat’s neck and his legs around his waist. Then he dove back in for more, fingers lifting up and tangling in blonde hair.

Junkrat closed his eyes and gave into the kiss, his fingers moving under Lúcio’s hoodie to play with his skin. He was so _warm_ but that was probably because he had dressed properly for the fall weather. Well, Junkrat was thankful for it, because his hand was freezing and his cheeks were cold.

Lúcio pulled away slightly, pressing a few quick kisses on Junkrat’s lips before he started to stroke his cold cheeks with his thumbs. He looked at Junkrat with that look in his eye, the lovey-dovey one that always made him feel weird and special and flustered.

“Jamie,” Lúcio said, voice quiet as he rubbed their noses together. Junkrat was thankful, because he hadn’t been able to feel his nose before that.

“Yeah?” Junkrat said, moving closer, drawn to Lúcio’s warmth and his soothing voice.

Lúcio smiled. “I love you.”

Aw, _fuck_ , Junkrat hated that. Well, he didn’t _hate_ it, but it always made him feel weird and funny in a kinda good and weird way. He felt all jittery and excited and flustered but also undeserving at the same time. It was amazing that Lúcio could say those words, direct them at him, and actual _mean_ them, but… Well, Junkrat was going to focus on the positive.

“Right. Okay. Fine,” he mumbled, his face turning pink, well pink _-er_. He looked away from Lúcio and then looked back and then startled giggling and then stopped. Then looked down the alleyway and then back to Lúcio. Then—

“Do you love me back?” Lúcio asked, smiling patiently. He was running his fingers through Junkrat’s hair and it felt _really_ good. He suddenly wished they were back at the outpost, cuddling in bed with soft music playing.

“‘ _Course_ I do!” Junkrat mumbled, hiding his face in Lúcio’s neck so he wouldn’t have to look into those big brown eyes and feel weak in the knees.

“Okay,” Lúcio said, kissing the side of Junkrat’s head. “So can you try havin’ a little more faith in me? I’m not gonna leave you, Jamie.”

Junkrat thought about that. He thought about the outback and the hellhole that it was. Thought about how he’d make alliances, made deals, get partners and how they’d be gone the next second. A bomb. A gun. A knife. Betrayal. It didn’t matter. They were there one moment and gone the next.

That wasn’t going to happen with Lúcio. No bombs or guns or knives were going to come _near_ him. Junkrat would make sure of that himself. Betrayal, though… Was faith the answer to that? Trusting Lúcio to follow through with his words, to keep his promises and not walk out on him the moment he saw some pretty girl or some better looking guy?

Junkrat hesitated, feeling unsure and vulnerable and exposed. Lúcio fingers continued to comb through his hair, and the smell of his cologne eased the twitching and fidgeting that Junkrat normally did when he was anxious.

He gripped Lúcio tightly, pressed them as closely together as he could before he whispered quietly into the crook of Lúcio’s neck. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually think Emilio's pretty cool and I really like his name and he and Lúcio probably had some good times together. They probably got their tattoos together.


	9. Fiancé

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat proposes.

A dumpster wasn’t the best place. In fact, it was probably the _worst_ place, but Junkrat couldn’t stop the words from leaving his mouth, couldn’t halt the question on his lips. Despite their location and the mission and everything else that was probably more important, his feelings were at an all-time high and his thoughts were filled with nothing but Lúcio.

So he said the first thing that came to mind.

“Let’s get hitched.”

Lúcio paused in pulling a banana peel off of his shoulder to look at Junkrat. He stared, unblinking and frozen. “What…?”

A feeling of dread and fear began to creep up Junkrat’s spine. He tried his best to hide it. “Let’s get hitched. You ‘n me.”

Lúcio lowered his hand and regarded Junkrat for a moment. He opened his mouth then closed it. He put his hands on the edge of the dumpster and started to pull himself up out of the garbage and filth. “How about we get out of the dumpster first?” Lúcio said.

Junkrat wasn’t sure if that was a yes. He hadn’t said _no_ , so that was a good sign, right? Lúcio was a good guy, so maybe he was going to sugar coat it and let him down easily.

Lúcio offered him a hand and Junkrat took it, noticing the moldy milk that coated his arm and elbow. He ignored it and pulled himself out of the dumpster with Lúcio’s help, landing on his peg leg and standing up straight as he brushed off some noodles and something unrecognizable from his chest and torso. Lúcio moved behind him and scrubbed something else off of his back. Junkrat didn’t ask what it was.

“Now what was that about gettin’ married?” Lúcio asked, circling Junkrat’s body and checking for trash and other things that he could brush off.

Junkrat felt a little self-conscious and stupid. He should’ve waited until they were in some place proper and pretty. A place with a view or something. He couldn’t help his feelings, though. After soaring through the air with Lúcio in his arms, taking in the view of the setting sunset and the wind whipping through their hair, he felt an immense amount of love and adoration for him.

Why the hell hadn’t he asked while they’d been flying? That was a hell of a lot better than a dumpster. “What, you don’t want to?” Junkrat asked, putting his hands in his pockets. He felt silly and stupid. He avoided Lúcio’s eye when his boyfriend came to stand in front of him.

“I didn’t say that,” Lúcio said, putting his hands in Junkrat’s pockets as well. Their hands touched and Lúcio intertwined their fingers together. “You just don’t seem like you’d be into marriage.”

Junkrat could understand that, and, truthfully, he wasn’t. He didn’t mind the large amounts of food and all the people gathered together, but he sure as hell minded wearing a _suit_ and having to stand at an altar for hours and listen to some old bastard talk about shit he didn’t care about.

He was more interested in what marriage signified. Lúcio belonging to him, completely and wholly and belonging to Lúcio in turn. Junkrat wanted to make their relationship official. Marriage made their relationship more solid. More stable.

They’d be stuck together and Junkrat liked the sound of that security.

Junkrat huffed, gripped Lúcio’s hands tight and pulled them out of his pockets. Both of their hands were dirty but neither of them seemed bothered by it. “Just want you to be mine. Y’know… officially,” he said, rubbing his dirty thumb over the back of Lúcio’s hand.

Lúcio looked up at him, studied him. He had that quiet, patient look on his face that he got when he was being thoughtful and thinking deeply. Junkrat waited, but the feeling of rejection was becoming too much to bear. Maybe Lúcio didn’t like the thought of being tied down. Maybe he’d already made plans to break up and was just waiting for the right time.

Junkrat started to tremble and shake. He knew it was a long shot, but he’d wanted… He’d _hoped_ —

“Maybe in three months?”

Junkrat froze. He looked down at Lúcio with wide, watery eyes. Had he… heard that correctly?

“You mean…?”

“Jamie, y’know I’m busy for the next few weeks,” Lúcio said, smiling brightly. He squeezed Junkrat’s hands and leaned up to place a kiss on the underside of his chin. “I got interviews and endorsements, but after that, I’ll have some free time to plan a little somethin’.”

Junkrat tried to keep his smile small and his feelings contained. He failed at both.

He grabbed Lúcio around the waist and picked him up, swinging him around and giggling like he’d just watched the biggest, loudest explosion go off. Lúcio laughed in his ear, the sound fueling the feeling of elation and happiness that was pulsing through Junkrat’s entire being.

Then a thought came to him and Junkrat set Lúcio back down on the ground, expression oddly serious.

“Do I gotta wear a suit?” he asked, voice low and eyebrows furrowed.

Lúcio snickered. “No, you don’t have to. You’d probably just burn it, anyhow.”

Junkrat grinned and cupped Lúcio’s cheeks with his dirty hands. “You know me so well,” he said, starting to giggle and snort and make all sorts of strange noises.

Lúcio cupped his cheeks as well and smiled, pressing a kiss to the tip of his pointy nose. “Well, I hope so. I _am_ your fiancé after all.”

It wasn’t until he heard that word that it really sunk in for Junkrat. _Fiancé_. They were going to get married. They were going to have rings and—

“Wait,” Junkrat said suddenly, pulling away. “Ain’t I supposed to give you like a… special ring or somethin’?” He never quite understood why that was part of the tradition. Why not just save the rings for the actual wedding?

“Yeah, but you don’t have to,” Lúcio answered with a shrug. “I’m fine with—Jamie, what are you doin’?”

Junkrat had started to dig in his pockets. He knew he had some spare fuse somewhere. Had he lost it in the dumpster? Or—No, there it was! A small coil buried deep in one of the small bags attached to his belt. He pulled it out and started to unravel it. He measured it then pulled on it tightly to cut it. He had no idea how big Lúcio’s finger was, but he figured he could just keep wrapping if he’d cut it too long.

Junkrat reached down and grabbed Lúcio’s right hand. He started to wrap the piece of fuse around Lúcio’s index finger but then stopped when Lúcio laughed.

“Wrong finger,” Lúcio said gently. He wiggled the correct one and Junkrat just grumbled, embarrassed.

The fuse went around his finger easily enough. It fit snuggly and didn’t fall off when Junkrat released it. It wasn’t the best ring, but it was all he could make on such short notice. “There! An engagement ring for my _fiancé_.” Just saying the word made him giddy.

Lúcio moved his hand closer to his face, inspecting the piece of fuse and the sloppy way that Junkrat had coiled it around his finger. He touched it gently with his other hand, fingers tracing the fuse, pulling at it to set it in a more comfortable position.

“I love it,” Lúcio said, a laugh following his words. He beamed at Junkrat, and flexed his hand, getting used to the feeling of the ‘ring’ on his finger. “It’s perfect, Jamie. Thank you.”

Junkrat blushed and waved a hand like it was nothing. When they got back to town, he’d have to pick out something suitable for Lúcio. Did they make wedding rings with frogs on them? If not, Junkrat would _make_ them.

Lúcio joined their hands together again and started to sway them back and forth, the smile never leaving his face. “So… three months?”

It was Junkrat’s turn to snort now as he leaned down again, touching their noses together. “Three months.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marriage with boombox is... complicated. I'd go into more detail but I feel like I'd write an essay about it and there's not enough room...


	10. Careful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked about Lúcio being careless and getting hurt and so I answered an ask and basically said that because Junkrat ran ahead into the fray, Lúcio followed after him, worried about his well-being and got badly wounded. Junkrat felt guilty and instead of staying with his boyfriend in the infirmary, he hides out in Lúcio's room, thinking that the second Lúcio wakes up, he's going to break up with him.
> 
> Then a friend drew a [comic](http://pyranova-draws.tumblr.com/post/151509339133/no-angst-allowed) to continue it! And so I wrote this in reply.

Fuck. _Shit_.

Junkrat fumbled down the hallway, naked and nearly falling on his ass as he tried to get his shorts on. His peg leg wobbled and Junkrat had to take two steps forward with his left foot, saving himself from falling forward onto his face and earning himself a trip to the infirmary himself for biting his tongue too hard.

He leaned against the wall and quickly got his shorts on. Once he was properly zipped and buttoned up he was hobbling down the hallways as quickly as his peg leg would take him, Hana’s words ringing in his ears and trepidation settling in his stomach.

Why would Lúcio be so worried about him when _he_ was the one in bad shape? Junkrat wanted to hit him and kiss him at the same time. Stupid frog. Always so worried about everyone else that he forgets about himself. That’s what Junkrat told himself, but the little flutters of affection and love he felt in his chest told a different story.

He turned a corner and nearly slammed into McCree. The cowboy said something, probably about being careful or some shit, but Junkrat didn’t care. He was already further down the hallway and turning to the left. His peg leg skidded on the slippery tile floors, but Junkrat caught himself. He was running as quickly as he could, but as he drew closer to his destination, he realized he had no idea what to say to Lúcio when he got there.

Unfortunately, he’d probably still be unconscious when he arrived. Dr. Ziegler had some _nerve_ sedating his boyfriend when she could’ve just reassured him that everything was fine. Roadie was supposed to be there since Junkrat was too much of a coward to show his face, but maybe the big guy had taken a break or gone to get some food.

Another turn and a short run down the corridor and Junkrat was there. Behind the door that had ‘Infirmary’ printed on the window in big, black letters, Lúcio was lying in bed. Junkrat _should’ve_ opened the door immediately. He should’ve busted in there and started demanding answers like he owned the place.

That’s what he should’ve done.

That’s what he _would’ve_ done if his leg would move.

Lúcio would wake up and be relieved that Junkrat was alive, sure. But after that… he’d realize that his boyfriend had been too caught up in his own thoughts to check on him, to stay by his side as he recovered. He’d realize that the reason he was in recovery in the _first_ place was because of Junkrat’s recklessness. He’d realize that he’s better off on his own or with someone that knows how to fight and isn’t constantly covered in soot and dirt.

He’d realize he’s too good for Junkrat and move on.

The thought brought Junkrat to a standstill. It was only a matter of time until he ruined the good thing they had going. He’d hoped it’d be farther off, though. Years away instead of months. Instead of Lúcio sitting with him and Roadhog during meals, bringing at least four other people with him, the junkers would return to keeping to themselves. Instead of coaxing Lúcio to get up with him at three in the morning to make a late night snack, Junkrat would return to hobbling to the kitchen by himself, searching the refrigerator and cabinets for food with only the moonlight as company.

Instead of sleeping with another body pressed closely against his, a hand in his hair and lips pressed to his neck, Junkrat would sleep alone in his messy, smelly room.

Something nudged him from behind, moving him forward and nearly making him trip. Junkrat caught himself, a scowl on his face as he opened his mouth to cuss out whoever had bumped into him. He paused as he realized it was Roadhog.

Junkrat huffed, turning around to face his bodyguard. “ _There_ you are. You wanna tell me why you weren’t in here watchin’ over Heatfrog like I asked ya to?”

Roadhog shifted on his feet and let out a grunt. Junkrat snorted.

“You picked the _worst_ time to use the toilet, mate. Heatfrog woke up and freaked out. Caused a scene. Bugs had to come and get me.” Junkrat left out the reason why Lúcio freaked out. He didn’t need to hear the same speech from Roadhog.

Roadhog picked up on something, though. Junkrat could tell by his silence, the way he stood completely still. Junkrat instinctively took a few steps back just as Roadhog leaned downward and peered into his amber eyes through his mask.

“ _You_ shoulda been in there. Not me,” Roadhog said, a deep, rasping breath following his words.

Junkrat fidgeted, the index finger and thumb of his right hand pulling at the pinky of his left. “Y-you’re right, but you know how I—”

“Ain’t he yours?” Roadhog asked, large hands on his hips, his shoulders heaving with each breath he took.

Junkrat peered into the mask of his bodyguard, the fluorescent lighting in the corridor preventing him from seeing Roadhog’s eyes clearly. He was probably going to get punched, get some sense knocked into him. It wouldn’t be the first time, but something about what Roadhog said stirred something inside him.

Lúcio _was_ his. The most important thing to him. More important than money and the power it gave. More important than bombs and explosions. More important than treasures and the secrets he kept. Lúcio was **_his_** and he wasn’t going to let _anything_ take him away.

Not bullets, not fire and not himself.

“Yeah,” Junkrat replied, dropping his hands to his sides. “I get it, Roadie. I’ll handle it. Stay out here, yeah? Want some privacy.”

Roadhog grunted and stood up to his full height. He stepped back and leaned against the opposite wall, hands on his hips.

Junkrat tossed him a small smile and turned on his heel. He opened the door to the infirmary and stepped inside.  

He had no idea what Lúcio was feeling or what he thought. The only way to find out was to ask him himself. An apology was all that Junkrat could offer, and hopefully… Lúcio would accept it.

There were rows of beds, all with curtains and medical equipment beside them. All of them were empty save for one at the far end of the room. Dr. Ziegler was seated beside Lúcio’s bed, tapping something on a tablet and glancing at him every so often.

Junkrat put his hands in his pockets and started walking.

Dr. Ziegler turned around at the sound of the door closing and Junkrat’s peg leg hitting the tile. “Mr. Fawkes. I was wondering when you’d stop by.”

Junkrat frowned. Whenever he heard his last name it reminded him of a different time, a different place. Memories best left forgotten. “Heard you sedated him, doc. Wanna explain why?”

Dr. Ziegler appeared surprised. She fiddled with her tablet for a moment and then set it on her lap. As Junkrat came to stand beside her, she raised a delicate blonde eyebrow. “He was in shock, Mr. Fawkes, and crying profusely. Hana and I both tried to calm him down, but he refused to listen. Sedation was the only option.” She narrowed her eyes at him, a disapproving look on her face. “He called for you many times. If you’d been here—”

Junkrat scoffed. “I _get_ _it_ , okay? I shoulda been here.” He was so _tired_ of being scolded by everyone. He shifted on his feet, looking uncomfortable and awkward. “Can we get some privacy?”

Dr. Ziegler regarded him for a moment before she grabbed her tablet and stood from her seat. She motioned for Junkrat to sit where she had been. She adjusted the curtain and then turned, the sound of her heels resounding in the large room before Junkrat heard the door open and then softly close behind her.

It was just him and Lúcio now and he was incredibly nervous.

Lúcio wasn’t awake yet, but that could change at any moment. Junkrat took the time to look him over and check to make sure the doctor had been taking care of him properly. The cut on his lower lip was gone now and so was the large bruise that had formed on his right shoulder. There were a few tiny scrapes and scabs he could see, but those were minor. His chest was bandaged and covered by a thin blanket, so Junkrat had no idea how the bullet wound was doing. He should’ve asked the doctor before she left.

Junkrat almost let the guilt he felt overpower him and prompt him to take his leave again, but a movement caught his eye. Lúcio’s fingers had twitched. He reached over with his left hand and intertwined their fingers. The simple touch was calming. Even when Lúcio wasn’t awake, he still put Junkrat at ease.

He scooted the chair closer, leaning over the bed. He was overcome with how much he’d missed Lúcio. It’d only been two days, but they had a routine for when they’d get back from missions. Eat together, bathe together, and sleep together. The sex was Junkrat’s favorite part, but there was something special about the cuddling afterwards, too. Maybe it was the location or the feeling in the air. Perhaps it was the music or the smells. It was probably all those things, coming together to form this addicting experience that Junkrat had come to love. Lúcio’s voice, his laughter, his touch, and his kiss.

Junkrat had come so close to losing _all_ of that.

The hand he was holding started to move and Junkrat nearly jumped in surprise. He started to rub his finger over the back of Lúcio’s hand, trying to coax him to wake up. The twitches turned into movements and soon enough, Lúcio was gripping his hand back in return.

Brown eyes opened slowly and Lúcio turned his head to lock eyes with Junkrat. There was a look of confusion on his face that slowly transitioned into relief and then happiness. “Jamie?”

Junkrat smiled and brought Lúcio’s hand to his lips to kiss. “Mornin’, Sunshine.”

Lúcio smiled back, his eyes starting to water. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Junkrat replied. He looked away from those eyes, the guilt becoming too much. “Thanks to you.”

Lúcio made a move to sit up, to move closer to Junkrat but a metal hand on his chest stopped him. “Stay there. I’ll come to you,” Junkrat said.

It wasn’t something that was usually allowed, but it wasn’t like Dr. Ziegler was in there to stop him. Junkrat stood up from his seat, lifted the blanket Lúcio was laying under and laid down beside him. He scooted close, left hand propping his head up while the other rubbed at Lúcio’s chin, metal fingers carefully playing with his facial hair. “This good?” Junkrat asked, resisting the urge to gather Lúcio in his arms and hold him tight. He didn’t want to open up any wounds or undo any bandages.

“Mhmm,” Lúcio nodded, turning his head slightly to kiss at Junkrat’s metal hand. The show of affection made Junkrat’s heart flip-flop in his chest.

“G-good,” Junkrat said. He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking on how he should word his apology. The sooner they talked about it, the sooner Junkrat could deal with how Lúcio took it. “Look, about what happened—”

Lúcio brought his hands up to cup Junkrat’s cheeks, leaned upward and pressed their lips together in a kiss. Lúcio’s lips were dry and chapped, and Junkrat’s weren’t any better, but he didn’t even _think_ of pulling away. He was so surprised he was being kissed instead of being yelled and scolded. He kissed back eagerly, running his tongue along Lúcio’s bottom lip and moaning when Lúcio opened his mouth and their tongues touched. Lúcio pulled away first, which sucked, because Junkrat was _really_ getting into it, but when he opened his eyes and looked at his boyfriend, it became clear why.

He was crying. Lúcio was crying and Junkrat wasn’t sure what to do or say to get the tears to stop. He moved his right hand quickly, wiping away each and every tear that fell while he moved forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Lúcio’s forehead.

“‘Ey, no cryin’. We’re both okay,” Junkrat whispered, pressing another kiss to the tip of Lúcio’s nose. Despite his words and actions, the tears kept coming and Junkrat felt the sting of tears start to form in his own eyes as a result.

Lúcio sniffed and placed a hand over Junkrat’s, holding it against his cheek. “I thought… I thought you were gone…”

“But I’m not,” Junkrat said, kissing a tear away since Lúcio had taken hold of his hand. “You _saved_ me, love. I’m here ‘cos of you.”

“But I thought—” Lúcio choked back a sob and Junkrat’s heart broke. “I thought I didn’t make it in time. I saw you—”

Junkrat adjusted his position, turning his body toward Lúcio and moving his elbow so that his left hand could cup Lúcio’s right cheek. The tears were already too much, but the words and the sobs… Junkrat couldn’t handle it.

“This is _my_ fault, Sunshine. Not yours,” Junkrat stressed, thick eyebrows furrowed and expression serious. “If I hadn’t rushed ahead like a _dipstick_ , none of this woulda happened. Don’t blame yourself for my mistake.” Junkrat leaned forward and kissed Lúcio, their lips touching for a brief moment before he pulled away. “‘M sorry…”

There. He’d said it and now Lúcio was probably going to shove him away, recall _exactly_ what happened and shout at him. Junkrat stood frozen, waiting for the inevitable. At least he’d gotten a few kisses in before the break up. A bittersweet reminder of what they had and how good it was.

Lúcio’s brown eyes searched his and Junkrat tried to hide the fear and guilt he felt. Lúcio was always good at figuring out what he was feeling and thinking, what he couldn’t put into words. It just showed how close they were, how much time they’d spent with each other. That’s why the thought of their relationship ending tore Junkrat to pieces. He’d never been so close to anyone before. Now that he’d experienced it, _how_ was he supposed to live without it?

“You’re right,” Lúcio said suddenly, stirring Junkrat from his painful thoughts. “You shouldn’t have ran ahead.”

Junkrat tried to mask the heartbreak from his face, but he was pretty sure he did a piss poor job of it. He started to pull away, trying to pull his right hand back but Lúcio held it in place against his cheek. Junkrat stared at him, confused.

“And _I_ shouldn’t have followed you in there alone. I was careless. I let my emotions get in the way of reason,” Lúcio said, looking disappointed in himself. “I should’ve grabbed Roadhog or Reinhardt and let them deal with Talon while I took care of you.”

Junkrat could hardly believe what he was hearing. He scoffed, taken aback and completely shocked that Lúcio was trying to share the blame. “Sunshine, that’s not—”

“We _both_ fucked up,” Lúcio said, moving close to Junkrat, touching their noses together. “And we’ll _both_ be more careful from now on, right?”

Junkrat was speechless. Utterly speechless. He opened his mouth and gaped at Lúcio for a moment before he dumbly nodded his head in response.

Lúcio smiled, that bright one that made Junkrat feel on top of the world. “Good.”

Junkrat swallowed, his throat feeling dry. Was… that it? Had he been worried for nothing? Surely, Lúcio had more to yell at him about? It didn’t seem like it since Lúcio just rested his head back on his pillow and nuzzled his face in Junkrat’s chest.

He thought about keeping his mouth shut, enjoying the moment and trying to forget all the time he’d spent worrying over nothing, but he couldn’t help but speak up. “So… you’re not gonna break up with me?”

“ _What?_ ” Lúcio asked incredulously. He lifted his head, pulling away from Junkrat to look him in the eye. “You think I’m gonna break up with you?”

Junkrat stared wide-eyed at him. “ _‘Course_ I do! It’s my fault—” He wisely closed his mouth at Lúcio’s sudden glare. “—I mean… I just thought you’d be real mad at me!”

“I _am_ mad at you!” Lúcio said, raising his voice to counter Junkrat’s. “But I’m mad at myself, too! What matters is that we’re both alive and _fine_ , Jamie. We’re going to make mistakes. It’s not worth breaking up over.”

Junkrat felt like a _real_ idiot now. It just showed that he didn’t know Lúcio as well as he sometimes liked to believe. He deflated, the heat and adrenaline of the argument leaving him. He rested his head on Lúcio’s pillow and sighed. He felt Lúcio’s hand on his cheek, thumb stroking his skin and when he opened his eyes Lúcio was lying beside him, smiling with humor in his eyes.

“Why would I break up with you, huh?” Lúcio asked, thumb running across Junkrat’s bottom lip. “I _love_ you. I don’t want us to be apart.”

Junkrat almost started crying. _Almost_. Hearing Lúcio say those words was reassuring, at least a little. Enough that the unease Junkrat had been feeling for the past two days dwindled away.

He kissed Lúcio’s thumb, starting to grin himself as Lúcio laughed. “Love ya too, Sunshine.”

Lúcio beamed at Junkrat’s quiet words, looking flustered as he tried to hide his face in the pillow. It wasn’t often that Lúcio acted bashful, and Junkrat made sure to keep his eyes on his boyfriend, watching his reaction with amusement. He really was too cute for his own good.

“Oh,” Lúcio said suddenly, fingers moving from Junkrat’s lips up to his blonde hair. “There _is_ something else I need to talk to you about.”

Junkrat tensed, lying absolutely still as Lúcio ran his fingers through his hair. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lúcio nodded. The fingers in Junkrat’s hair suddenly tightened, gripping a good chunk of blonde hair. “You had better be the _first_ person I see next time I end up in the infirmary. Got it?”

Oh. Right. Junkrat had nearly forgotten about that. He did feel guilty that he hadn’t been there when Lúcio needed him, especially when things hadn’t gone as bad as he thought they would. Junkrat tried to nod, but Lúcio’s grip on his hair prevented that. It was a bit of turn on that Lúcio was acting so serious and forceful, but Junkrat forced those thoughts to the back of his mind. No need to get a boner now when he was boyfriend could hardly move.

“G-got it. Won’t happen again, love.” Junkrat managed, smirking as Lúcio released his hair and started to scratch at his scalp. “And you won’t be gettin’ sent back here.”

“Oh, yeah?” Lúcio asked, scooting forward and kissing Junkrat’s nose.

“Yeah,” Junkrat whispered, tilting his head and just barely touching their lips together. “I’ll be makin’ sure of that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in one sitting and i'm shocked


	11. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I saw some [headcanons ](http://geeknova.tumblr.com/post/151896764145/i-have-two-headcanons-about-l%C3%BAcio-giving-head-that)and wrote something about them!

“Is it cool if I touch you while you’re sleepin’?”

Junkrat groaned. He turned to face Lúcio, eyebrows furrowed and a frown on his face. He had just about fallen asleep when his boyfriend asked him that question. Junkrat wouldn’t care, but considering how long it took him just to _relax_ , it was a bit of an annoyance to be asked questions when they were already settled.

Not to mention, the question wasn’t even worth asking. Lúcio _always_ touched him while they slept. Why was he asking for permission _now?_

“Sure. Whatever,” Junkrat grumbled, opening his eyes to glare at Lúcio. He wasn’t expecting the sweet smile in return or the fingers playing with his hair, but Junkrat was too tired to fully appreciate those things. After the day they’d had, he just wanted to _sleep_.

“I meant… can I touch you _anywhere?_ ” Lúcio asked again, moving his fingers from Junkrat’s hair to his face, touching at his cheek and tracing his jawline.

If Junkrat’s mind hadn’t been so clouded with fatigue and drowsiness, he would’ve asked why Lúcio was being so specific. Why he felt the need to ask such questions when Junkrat had never told him ‘no’ before. He _wanted_ Lúcio to touch him, anywhere, everywhere, all the time. It made him feel loved, appreciated. Wanted. _Needed_. Something Junkrat so desperately craved. He couldn’t get enough of it.

Instead, he just groaned again, slamming his face into the pillow. “Fuckin’ hell— _Yes_ , you can! Now for fuck’s sake, can you stop talkin’ so I can _sleep_?” Junkrat cried.

Lúcio snorted and rested his head on the pillow as well, still smiling despite Junkrat’s annoyance and irritation. “Sure. Sorry, Jamie. No more questions.”

Junkrat turned his head and looked at him, eyes narrowed and amber glowing in the soft lighting of the room. He continued to stare, thinking that Lúcio was going to ask something else just to piss him off.

“I’m done. Seriously,” Lúcio said, lifting his finger to poke Junkrat’s nose. “Go to sleep.”

Junkrat hesitantly turned his head, moved his hand under the pillow, shuffled about to get comfortable, and closed his eyes. Sleep came quickly and deeply. Drool and loud snoring included. He was pretty sure he didn’t move at all during the night, no fidgeting or twitching or kicking that Lúcio swore that he did.

It was the best sleep that Junkrat had had in awhile. That is, until he felt something wet on his cock.

His first thought was that he was having a rather perverse dream. Strange, considering the amount of times he and Lúcio had sex, he hadn’t _had_ a wet dream in a long time. But the feeling of wetness and warmth was there, and it definitely wasn’t piss, so what else could it be?

Junkrat couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about. In fact, he didn’t think he had a dream at _all_. Just darkness and silence. His brain must’ve been too dead ass tired to come up with any strange or imaginative pictures. But… then, why…?

Slowly, Junkrat opened his eyes. His face felt incredibly hot, as did his chest and thighs. Was he sick? Or was the heater just blasting too much of that hot air? He stared at the ceiling for a moment, sweaty and confused, before he looked down at himself and heard the all too familiar sound of slurping and sucking that usually came with a blowjob.

Lúcio had pulled away the blanket, tugged down Junkrat’s shorts, and had started sucking him off.

So _that’s_ why he’d been asking all those questions earlier.

Lúcio glanced up and caught his eye. He stopped bobbing his head and lifted it off of Junkrat’s cock, but left his right hand to continue stroking him.

“Mornin’,” Lúcio said, all warm smiles and sweetness, as if he didn’t have Junkrat’s cock in his hand and the taste of precum in his mouth. “How’d you sleep?”

Junkrat’s first thought was a question. It was morning _already?_ He turned and looked around the room, noticing that a few things had changed since he’d fallen asleep the night before.The curtains had been pulled back and the sunlight was just barely streaming in through the window. The sky was slowly changing from the dark of night to a light blue. It was early morning, around seven or so.

There was also music. Slow, melodic music with a strong bassline that seemed to shake Junkrat’s entire body. He noticed that Lúcio’s strokes were keeping time with the beat, and something about that just made Junkrat blush heavily.

Lúcio had been planning this. He’d set things up, asked questions, and made preparations _just_ so that he could wake Junkrat up with a blowjob.

It was the sweetest, most sexiest thing that anyone had ever done for him. Junkrat was at a loss for words.

The hand on his cock went away and Junkrat immediately missed the warmth. He locked eyes with Lúcio and noticed that the smile was gone, replaced with nervousness and regret. He had taken Junkrat’s silence as a sign of displeasure.

“S-sorry, uh… Do you not want this?” Lúcio asked, voice sounding small. He grabbed Junkrat’s pants and started to pull them back up. “I’m sorry. I just thought you’d—”

“Oi!” Junkrat said, sitting up. His skin was flushed, his hair was a mess, and his voice sounded rough and gravelly. He cleared his throat and pinned Lúcio with a heavy-eyed yet aroused stare. “I didn’t say stop, did I?”

Lúcio stared at him, still and hesitant to move. He licked his lips. “So, you don’t mind if—?”

“Fuck _no_ , I don’t mind!” Junkrat said, incredulous. He couldn’t believe that Lúcio thought he wasn’t about getting a morning blow. A blowjob from Lúcio was one of the most arousing, _amazing_ things he had ever experienced. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, where they were, or what they were doing; Junkrat would _never_ say no.

The look of relief on Lúcio’s face was adorable and he would’ve opened his mouth and said so if his boyfriend hadn’t immediately lowered his head and gotten right back to work.

Junkrat sucked in a breath, moving his left foot and wishing he had his prosthetics on. Without his right hand, it would be difficult to play with Lúcio’s dreads or touch his face like he wanted to. He was left to watch his cock disappear into Lúcio’s mouth, to listen to the sound of Lúcio moaning around his dick, to look into Lúcio’s eyes and try not to come prematurely.

Lúcio didn’t seem to mind, considering every time he’d pull back and swirl his tongue around the head of Junkrat’s cock he’d smile and wink, making Junkrat turn as red as a tomato. Lúcio was just so damn confident and playful sometimes. Mostly during blowjobs. He knew how much Junkrat loved them, loved watching Lúcio’s facial expression, his tongue, his lips. It was hot as _fuck_. It’s what made him shiver and shudder in pleasure, made his stomach twist and his heart pound.

Junkrat bit his lip as Lúcio eased himself down his cock, taking all of him in his mouth. A curse escaped his chapped, dry lips, his eyes closing shut as he relished the feeling. He wanted to move his hips, to thrust upwards into Lúcio’s mouth. He didn’t have the proper support to do so without his left hand, and Junkrat was left at Lúcio’s mercy.

Judging by the look Lúcio gave him as he slid Junkrat’s cock out of his mouth, his boyfriend knew it, too.

“Ya couldn’t have put on my arm before ya started?” Junkrat said, voice husky and quiet. It was embarrassing how much he was sweating. Who knew a little morning blowjob could get him so bothered?

Lúcio didn’t seem at all sympathetic. He lifted his head to regard Junkrat, hand slowly stroking in time to the song. “I could stop and put it on now, if you want,” he offered.

Junkrat narrowed his eyes, hand fisting the sheets. “Don’t you _dare_ stop,” he said, voice low, his words a threat.

Lúcio grinned and leaned down to kiss Junkrat’s dick. “Then stop complaining.”

Junkrat begrudgingly kept his mouth shut.

The helpless feeling was annoying to deal with, though it didn’t counteract the utter _bliss_ of Lúcio’s mouth on his cock. There were just things that Junkrat wanted to do, places he wanted to touch and things he wanted to say that he couldn’t. But Lúcio liked to do this sometimes. He would take his time, be slow, smooth and gentle and shower him with affection and pleasure. It was something Junkrat wasn’t used to and he wasn’t sure if he ever would be.

The slow route had its perks, though. If Junkrat managed to push through the waves of embarrassment and nervousness, he’d lose himself, forget about everything else and focus entirely on the physical aspect of things. He’d get into it, moan and gasp for more, whine and perhaps beg if he was feeling _really_ desperate. Lúcio ate all of that shit up, thrived on it as he concentrated on making Junkrat feel wonderful.

That was how he felt right now, _wonderful_. Lúcio had returned to bobbing his head, his tongue lying flat as he slowly took more and more of Junkrat into his mouth. Lúcio’s slick fingers continued to stroke the base of his cock to the beat. He was close, _already_ , and it hadn’t even been that long. About seven minutes, tops. But Lúcio should be used to how quickly he came anyway.

“Love,” Junkrat whispered, his voice hushed and strained as he tried to hold himself back. It was considered rude to just come without giving a warning or a head’s up, Lúcio had told him. So, Junkrat forced himself to do the proper thing, his lip turning red from how hard he was biting it.

Lúcio glanced up at him for a moment, pulled back a little, and started sucking again. His tongue dipped into the slit, licking up precum and making Junkrat whine with need. He laid back on the bed, his head resting on the pillow and his hand pulling at strands of blonde hair. His body jerked and twitched and fidgeted, his toes curling as he lifted his hips off the bed and came into Lúcio’s mouth.

Every spasm and buck of his hips was met with Lúcio sucking and swallowing every last bit of his cum. When he took Junkrat’s cock out of his mouth, he ran his tongue from the base of it all the way to the head, tracing a trail of cum that had escaped his mouth.

“Fuck _me_ ,” Junkrat breathed, opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling. He felt Lúcio messing with his shorts, tucking him back in and pulling them back up. Junkrat could hardly move and he stayed where he was as Lúcio leaned over to the bedside table to adjust the volume of the music and pull the blanket up to cover Junkrat.

“I can do that too, if you want,” Lúcio said, all cocky and confident. He lay down beside Junkrat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m—” Junkrat took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was slowly cooling off and coming down from his high. He turned his head slightly to look at Lúcio who was just grinning at him with a knowing look on his face. “You’re doin’ that again.”

Lúcio snorted and ran his fingers through Junkrat’s hair. “Yeah? When? Tomorrow?”

“Every day,” Junkrat insisted, closing his eyes and leaning into Lúcio’s touch. “Every mornin’.”

“I dunno about _every_ morning,” Lúcio said, laughing under his breath. He kissed Junkrat’s sweaty forehead and the very tip of his pointy nose. “Maybe twice a week? That sound good?”

It wasn’t what he wanted, but he could work with twice a week. Especially if he didn’t know which days specifically. It was a turn on to wake up and see Lúcio’s beautiful face sucking his cock.

“Deal,” Junkrat said, still breathless and tired, but deeply satisfied and content. Maybe in twenty minutes or so he’d flip Lúcio over and give him a blowjob of his own. Or maybe he’d take him up on his earlier offer.

Either way, the morning was _far_ from over.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've written Lúcio giving bj's so much, it's time for Junkrat to give one. Maybe next time. Also, I've noticed that the past few chapters of this have been in Junkrat's perspective and I realized that's why I've been in a bit of a slump. Need a change, fam.


	12. Sloppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat gives a blowjob.

Junkrat had never given him a blowjob before. It was pretty early on in their relationship, about two weeks or so, and Lúcio had suggested it. Junkrat didn’t meet the idea with the usual enthusiasm that Lúcio had come to expect, but with a few words of encouragement, his boyfriend agreed to it.

Besides, it couldn’t go that badly, right? Well, that’s what Lúcio had thought, until Junkrat made the mistake of using his right hand to touch his dick instead of his left.

“ _Jamie_! Wrong hand!” Lúcio said, bending forward and resisting the urge to move away from Junkrat entirely. The metal was so cold, _too_ cold to be touching his cock with. It sent unpleasant shivers throughout his body and the haze of arousal and sex dimmed somewhat. The pleasant illusion was shattered.

Junkrat quickly took his hand away and replaced it with his left. He sheepishly looked up at Lúcio, giggling nervously and starting to immediately stroke him in apology. “Sorry, love. Forgot.”

Lúcio glared at him and Junkrat just leaned forward to flick his tongue against his dick.

“It’s fine,” Lúcio said, straightening up and leaning back against the wall. Junkrat’s continued stroking was warming him up anyway. Lúcio tilted his head back, closing his eyes. He felt Junkrat’s clumsy tongue circling the head of his cock and he started to think that it wouldn’t be so bad.

Junkrat proved him wrong by increasing the speed of his stroking. Usually, Lúcio wouldn’t mind the added friction, but it was a little too fast and a little too much. To the point that it deviated from enjoyable to painful.

Lúcio opened his eyes and placed a hand on Junkrat’s rapidly moving one. “Okay,” he started, voice calm and gentle despite the slight irritation he felt. "Slow down. You’re goin’ a little too fast for me.”

Junkrat stopped, though he looked a bit annoyed. He thinned his lips. “Thought the point _was_ to go fast,” he said.

Lúcio paused, eyebrows furrowed and expression thoughtful. He realized at that moment that he had the pleasure of being Junkrat’s first blowjob since the Outback. Junkrat was used to being quick and efficient with his blowjobs. Quick strokes, lots of spit, plenty of sucking. Just like with sex, going slowly wasn’t something that Junkrat was used to.

Lúcio took a deep breath and let it out over the course of ten seconds. “You don’t need to go fast with me,” Lúcio said, running his fingers through Junkrat’s hair. “We’ve got plenty of time. No need to rush.”

Junkrat narrowed his eyes, thinking about it. He gave Lúcio’s cock a gentle squeeze, just wanting to do something with his hands. “Fine,” he said finally, tearing his eyes away from Lúcio’s. “Gonna get bored if it takes too long, though.”

Lúcio tugged on his hair. “You sayin’ my dick’s boring?”

Junkrat snorted. “Didn’t say that.”

“It was implied,” Lúcio said, smiling when Junkrat snickered. He played with the frizzy ends of Junkrat’s hair, rubbing them between his fingers. “You know my dick is the best one you’ve ever seen.”

Junkrat had started to take the head of Lúcio’s cock in his mouth, but pulled away at the last second. He glared up at Lúcio, thick eyebrows furrowed but the grin on his face betrayed the annoyance he was trying to convey. “You wanna have a bloody _conversation_ or do you want me to suck your cock?” he asked, gesturing to Lúcio’s dick with his right hand.

Lúcio was having a hard time holding back his laughter, so he just nodded and made a motion with his hand for Junkrat to continue.

Junkrat moved forward and took the head of Lúcio’s cock into his mouth. He sucked on it somewhat timidly at first before gaining a bit of confidence and sucking in earnest. He ran his tongue along the slit, licking up precum and making Lúcio’s grip his hair tightly. It was enough to make Lúcio begin to change his opinion on the entire experience. It had started out a bit rocky, but things had smoothed out. Junkrat was learning and that’s all Lúcio could ask for—

“ _Sh—shit!_ Jamie!” Lúcio shrieked, jumping back and releasing Junkrat’s hair. His hard cock slipped from Junkrat’s mouth, his boyfriend looking perplexed and offended, as if he’d just been slapped for no reason. Well, Lúcio was thinking about smacking him for using his _teeth_ when he’d started to bob his head.

Junkrat wiped at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “Take it you don’t like it rough?”

“ _No_ , I don’t like it rough!” Lúcio nearly shouted, breathing heavily. “Why would you—You at _least_ need to ask! Who would want—”

“Used teeth before,” Junkrat said, shrugging his shoulders. “Bloke seemed to like it. Didn’t complain or nothin’.”

Lúcio stared at him. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t really fault Junkrat for doing what he knew. It wasn’t like Lúcio had explained how he liked it before they’d started. Then again, it wasn’t like Junkrat had _asked_. But Lúcio kept forgetting that this was Junkrat’s first _real_ relationship. There were going to be screw-ups and mistakes and… pain.

Junkrat sat back and stared at Lúcio’s dick for a moment before looking up at him. “Y’wanna stop?” he asked. He didn’t look pleased at the suggestion, but he offered it anyway.

Lúcio knew he was probably beating himself up over it. His cock didn’t hurt _that_ badly anymore, anyway. It was more shock than anything. “No, I don’t want to stop,” Lúcio said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Just… no teeth, okay? Nothing rough or fast.” He bent forward and kissed Junkrat’s forehead, trying to be supportive. “Just take it slow and steady and I’ll be putty in your hands.”

Junkrat blinked up at him, sitting still and being quiet even as Lúcio moved away. He looked contemplative and a bit conflicted. Lúcio wondered if he would need to say something else to ease Junkrat’s worries and build up his confidence, but Junkrat lifted his left hand slowly, gripped Lúcio’s cock at the base, and cautiously started sucking again.

Junkrat was following Lúcio’s advice a little _too_ well, now. He was moving meticulously slow, taking care to be gentle and making sure his teeth didn’t go anywhere near Lúcio’s cock.

It was very sweet, but Junkrat was being overly cautious. Lúcio felt like an ass for gently tugging on a strand of blonde hair to get his boyfriend’s attention. When Junkrat looked up at him, Lúcio smiled sheepishly. “A _little_ faster?”

The look he received for his quiet suggestion would’ve made him laugh if it weren’t for the anger and malice that Junkrat held in his glare. Anger looked good on him, Lúcio thought idly. If they hadn’t been in the middle of a blowjob, he would’ve kissed Junkrat then and there and told him that. He was pissed, and Lúcio could understand that, but at the rate Junkrat was going, Lúcio wouldn’t come for thirty minutes.

“Sorry, Jamie. Just a little faster and it’ll be _perfect_ , I promise,” Lúcio said, feeling a little nervous. There was nothing stopping Junkrat from biting him again out of spite.

Junkrat was still for a moment, glaring up at Lúcio with his beautiful amber eyes before he went back to bobbing his head at a faster pace. Lúcio practically melted, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes momentarily. Junkrat had found his sweet spot and it felt _fantastic_.

Lúcio carded his fingers through blonde hair, encouraging Junkrat to take more of him into his mouth. Inch by inch, Junkrat did so until he had to place his right hand on Lúcio’s inner thigh to steady himself. Lúcio was so focused on the wonderful sensations and the sight of himself disappearing into Junkrat’s mouth that he didn’t notice the cold touch of metal.

Junkrat looked so _hot_ when he was giving a blowjob, but also a bit messy. There was spit dribbling down his chin and through his daze, Lúcio lifted a hand to wipe it away. Somehow, Junkrat’s eyes looked warmer and even more golden. Lúcio wasn’t sure how or why, but he loved it. Maybe it was because of his flushed skin. Even the tips of his ears and nose were red. Lúcio’s heart swelled with warmth and he couldn’t help but laugh at how cute his boyfriend looked.

Junkrat paused, the arousing slurping sounds coming to a stop as he glanced at Lúcio with a questioning stare. He probably thought he was doing something else wrong, but he couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Lúcio ran a hand down Junkrat’s cheek, his thumb caressing the pink skin. “You’re really cute,” Lúcio told him, smiling fondly.

The look of shock and surprise on Junkrat’s face was a _real_ treat. Sadly, it only lasted for a second before Junkrat eased Lúcio’s cock out of his mouth and glared at him. “C-can you _stop talkin’_ for five minutes so I can do this?” Junkrat asked, frowning as Lúcio laughed and started to braid his hair. “You want me to leave so you can finish off on your own?”

“No!” Lúcio said quickly, biting his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing. “No, I’m sorry. I won’t talk anymore.”

Junkrat continued to stare at him, eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a deep frown. He waited until all the humor and mirth had disappeared from Lúcio’s expression to resume where he’d left off. Lúcio inhaled sharply as the sucking started again and he focused on losing himself to the pleasure he felt.

That worked for a time, Lúcio moaning and tugging on Junkrat’s hair as he bucked his hips, but as Junkrat took more of him into his mouth and his metal hand squeezed his thigh, Lúcio found himself staring at his boyfriend again. He watched his expression, how he was focused intently on what he was doing. The sound of Junkrat’s low moans and sighs and the vibrations they caused.

It was the sight of Junkrat, flushed and hazy-eyed that sent Lúcio over. It was the look on his face as he swallowed as much of Lúcio’s cum as he could. The way he looked up at Lúcio as he licked up the trails of cum that dripped down his cock. It was so _arousing_ and sexy and Lúcio wanted to see that look on Junkrat’s face again and again.

“Took you long enough,” Junkrat said, releasing Lúcio’s cock and wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. “Ya gotta stop talkin’ so damn much. Messes me up.”

Lúcio slowly let himself fall along the wall, coming to sit on the floor in front of Junkrat.

“C’mere,” he said breathlessly, opening his arms. Junkrat seemed a bit hesitant at first, but slowly crawled forward and slumped against Lúcio. He adjusted himself so that his head rested on Lúcio’s shoulder and Lúcio wrapped his arms around him. It was a bit awkward. Because of their difference in height, Junkrat’s legs were stretched out further than Lúcio’s, but it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Lúcio leaned over and placed a kiss on Junkrat’s forehead. “That… was a _really_ good blowjob,” he said, running his hand along Junkrat’s side.

Junkrat hid his face in the crock of Lúcio’s neck. “Yeah?” he asked, moving his hands under Lúcio’s shirt, touching at his abdomen.

“Yeah,” Lúcio answered. He licked his lips and moved his hand down to the waistband of Junkrat’s shorts, smirking when he felt his boyfriend freeze. “Now, let me return the favor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two blowjob chapters back to back?! It must be your lucky day, friend!


	13. Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick warm-up... thing.

It was a chilly day in autumn the first time Junkrat called him that.

They’d been dating for three days and were assigned on a mission together. If Junkrat was there, that meant Roadhog was coming. It was the three of them - the formidable trio. The three stood in the hangar about to board their jet. The large door to the outside world stood open, letting in the chilly air and rushing winds.

Lúcio shuffled on his skates, the sound of his music a dull whisper compared to the biting winds in his ear. He pulled his jacket as close to his body as he could and shifted on his skates again, restless, cold, sniffling. He _should_ write a song about heat and configure it with his gear. Being able to give others an aura of warmth sounded promising and helpful.

To his left, Junkrat was quiet but fidgety. His foot tapped against the concrete, his fingers snapped, he whistled. He was feeling restless, too. Lúcio turned to him, his lips trembling and his teeth chattering as another gush of wind blew past them. Junkrat was wearing his usual getup; harness, shorts, and dirty boot. He was shirtless… in ten degree Celsius weather.

“Junk,” Lúcio said, rubbing at his shoulders with his hands. He could still feel the cold through his gloves and that was bothering him. “You want a jacket or something?”

Junkrat turned his head and looked down at him. “Nah,” he answered with a shake of his head. “It’d catch fire.”

A good point, but wasn’t he freezing just standing there? Lúcio payed closer attention to his movements. Besides the usual jitters and fidgets, there was nothing. No shivering or arm rubbing whatsoever. Was he immune to the cold?

Lúcio expended great effort to move his hand and grab Junkrat’s right one. That had been a mistake; the metal was piercing cold and Lúcio had to keep himself from jerking away. He held it tightly, tugging on it a little to get Junkrat’s attention if he didn’t already have it.

“You sure?” Lúcio asked again, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “It’s cold on the jet, too. I don’t want you freezing your ass off.”

Junkrat looked surprised, thick eyebrows raised high. They slowly came back down and his smile turned a little more gentle and soft. Those were two words Lúcio wasn’t used to associating with Junkrat.

“I’ll be fine, Sunshine,” he said, turning his right hand and squeezing Lúcio’s in return.

Lúcio stared up at him, mulling over that pet name and what it implied. Junkrat was a nickname person; he’d given everyone in Overwatch a nickname. Lúcio knew he already had one, but this one sounded more intimate, something shared just between the two of them.

Just like their hands, intertwined together tightly.

Lúcio turned and looked toward the hangar opening. The grey and white clouds were beginning to clear and small rays of sunlight were starting to peek through.

He squeezed Junkrat’s hand again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat is kept warm by an inner flame...
> 
> I guess.


	14. Jamie

“Is it alright if I call you Jamie?”

Junkrat nearly spat out his cereal. He stared wide-eyed at Lúcio, chewing slowly as he mulled that question over. It had come out of nowhere. It’d been such a long time since he’d been called that nickname. A _very_ long time.

“U-uh…” Junkrat lowered his right hand and tapped his spoon against his bowl.

“It’s cool if you don’t want me to,” Lúcio said, shrugging his shoulders. “I just don’t like calling you ‘Junk’ for short, you know? Sounds insulting when you think about it.”

Junkrat started to twirl the spoon in his hand, avoiding Lúcio’s eyes like the plague. His mother had called him Jamie, he remembered that. She wore dresses a lot. They spent a lot of time outside. It was always so hot and he’d complain when the heat started to get to him. His mother would smile and take him inside to get him something cool to drink.

“I don’t want to call you ‘Rat’, either,” Lúcio continued, drumming his fingers on the table. “I could call you Jamison, but that’s too long.”

There were plants. _That_ must’ve been what they were doing. Junkrat remembered flowers and dirt. He remembered digging and finding worms. He remembered eating one and telling his mother about it later. She’d laughed at first, a blissful and bubbly sound. Then she’d ruffled his hair and told him that worms helped the plants grow. He felt terrible after that, but she'd reassured him that it was alright.

Lúcio stopped drumming his fingers and started tapping his foot instead. Sometimes it bumped against Junkrat’s. “Or… I could come up with another nickname for you. Maybe sparks? Smoky?”

She had short blonde hair and kind brown eyes. Junkrat was surprised he remembered her so well. They’d only been together for a few years after the explosion. But her eyes… he’d never forget them.

“Junkrat?”

Lúcio was touching his arm, tapping on it with a finger. He looked concerned and sheepish. “Look, its okay if you don’t want me to call you that. I’ll think of something else.”

Junkrat was still silent, staring into Lúcio’s eyes. They were warm and gentle, but different. There was more there. They didn’t remind him of hot summer days and sunflowers, but of music and light. They reminded him of warm nights curled up together under the blankets, fingers intertwined, foreheads pressed together. Of grenades and sonic blasts, explosions and neon lights, sound and fire.

Junkrat started to blush and he touched Lúcio’s hand with his own. “You can,” he said, staring down at his bowl of cereal, embarrassed. He could practically _feel_ Lúcio’s joy at being given permission.

“Really? You sure?” Lúcio asked, leaning his head downward to try and stare in Junkrat’s eyes.

Junkrat didn’t let him. He needed his face to stop feeling so hot first. “Yeah.”

Lúcio gripped his hand tightly, nudging Junkrat’s foot under the table. “Okay, _Jamie_.”

That only made Junkrat’s blush _worse_. It sounded so sweet in Lúcio’s voice, full of affection and warmth.

He could get used to it, slowly but surely. It _was_ a hell of a lot better than being called ‘Junk’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then, that night, Lúcio says it again. He whispers it into Junkrat's ear and he literally melts. He just lays on top of Lúcio and hides his face in his neck, and Lúcio just runs his hands through his hair and laughs.


	15. Some More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this like three months ago for that boombox summer thing, but never finished it. Till now, I guess.

Lúcio looked into the flames of the bonfire, his fingers playing with the ends of his shorts. The sun had just begun to set, the sky turning a lovely shade of orange as the sun drew closer to the horizon. A breeze swept past him, but it didn’t bother him. It felt refreshing combined with the heat from the fire.

Dr. Ziegler and Lena were splashing about in the shallow water on the beach. Hana was sitting in a beach chair near the shore, huddled over her handheld game. Winston and Torbjörn were handling the grill and other equipment, shooing Roadhog and Junkrat away so they could start cleaning up.

Though there had been a few causes for concern, Junkrat cooking their food hadn’t been a disaster. Some burgers had been overcooked and Junkrat would randomly giggle and yell when he burnt himself, which, he and Hana knew, had sometimes been deliberate. The food had tasted good enough, so no one complained.

Now that their duty was relieved, the Junkers seemed unsure of what to do at first, but soon spotted Lúcio sitting over by the bonfire by himself. Well, save for McCree, but he was fast asleep in a beach chair after having his sixth drink.  

Junkrat wasted no time in heading over to the bonfire, Roadhog following behind in his red speedo and matching flip flops. Junkrat wasn’t much better with his ‘hot stuff coming through’ apron and bright green shorts. Each step he took was unsteady due to the sand, but he hid the discomfort and frustration from his face.

Lúcio smiled at them as they came closer. “Hey,” he greeted, giving a quick wave in greeting. “Good job on the grill, Junk. My burger was nice and edible.”

Junkrat untied his apron and threw it over his shoulder, plopping down onto the sand next to Lúcio. Roadhog grabbed hold of the chair nearby and brought it closer to sit near the two of them. “I know it was! Told ya I knew how to grill. Just had to restrain myself, is all.”

Lúcio snorted. “Well, we’re all grateful that you exercised some self-control.”

Junkrat stretched his legs out, his foot almost touching the fire. He showed no discomfort by the heat and Lúcio couldn’t even bring himself to be surprised. At this point, he was pretty sure Junkrat was fire incarnate.

“Just annoyin’ that Longbeard and Apeman had to go and ruin it. ‘Hog and I didn’t get to eat our fill,” Junkrat complained. “‘S the price ya pay for cookin’ for other people, I guess.”

Lúcio looked at Junkrat, then Roadhog, then leaned back a little to watch Winston and Torbjörn pack up the grill. “You’re still hungry?” he asked, looking back at Junkrat with concern.

Junkrat shrugged, his foot moving side to side before the flames. “Just a bit. Nothing a snack won’t fix. Don’t worry about it.”

Except Lúcio _did_ worry about it, as he was prone to do. It wasn’t fair that Roadhog and Junkrat didn’t get to eat as much as they wanted with all the work they put in. But he did get an idea thanks to Junkrat’s words. “If only we had some s’mores, huh?”

Junkrat looked over at him with a raised brow. “What’s that?”

It was thanks to Lúcio being momentarily stunned by the fire reflecting in Junkrat’s eyes that he didn’t laugh immediately. “U-uh, wait, you don’t…? You haven’t had s’mores before?” Lúcio asked in disbelief.

Junkrat narrowed his eyes and Lúcio could practically see his defenses going up. “Believe it or not, there’s _plenty_ of things I haven’t had before,” Junkrat said, sounding a little ticked off.

Lúcio smiled sheepishly. “Right. Sorry,” he apologized. He drummed his fingers on his knee, thinking for a moment. If Junkrat hadn’t had s’mores before, then… “How about we make some?”

Junkrat sighed and laid back onto the sand. “Are they hard to make? ‘Cuz I just spent the whole afternoon cookin’ and I don’t feel—”

“No, they’re easy. We just need three things,” Lúcio told him. He paused to remember if they had any of the ingredients on hand, but he doubted they did. Chocolate possibly, but marshmallows and graham crackers? Probably not.

Lúcio turned to Junkrat with a smile. “Feel like a trip to the store?”

 

* * *

 

For a Saturday night, the city was oddly quiet. Lúcio was thankful for that. The less people around, the better. It was risky going on an impromptu run to the store, but Lúcio _had_ to make some s’mores for Junkrat. It was a crime that he hadn’t had any before.

He’d done his best to appear like a normal citizen instead of the international celebrity that he was, putting his hair up and wearing sunglasses. Junkrat, on the other hand, had quickly slipped on a beanie and called it a day. The most recognizable trait of his mugshot was his wild hair, so Lúcio _supposed_ a hat was enough.

“You should’ve worn a jacket or something,” he said anyway, adjusting his glasses and putting his hands in his pockets. “It’s getting cold out here.”

Junkrat shrugged his shoulders. “Stop worryin’! Feels fine. ‘Sides, we’ll only be gone a second. These whatchamacallit’s better be worth it.”

“They will be,” Lúcio reassured quickly. He fingered his phone and wallet in his pockets, thinking on that for a moment. “You like chocolate, right?”

“Sure,” Junkrat said, before snorting out a laugh. “Doesn’t everyone? Haven’t met a bloke yet that didn’t like chocolate.”

“Some people don’t like it or they’re allergic to it,” Lúcio said. “But there’s all kinds of chocolate, too. White chocolate, dark chocolate, but milk chocolate goes the best with graham crackers.”

They turned the corner and Lúcio saw Junkrat falter in his footing. He quickly fell back into step with him, though he looked very confused. “Graham… crackers?”

“Yeah, they’re—” Lúcio paused, giving Junkrat an incredulous look. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had those either?”

“Never heard of ‘em,” Junkrat shrugged. “Sound like shite.”

“They’re _not_ ,” Lúcio responded quickly. “And—holy shit, I can’t believe I get to see you try _two_ things!”

Junkrat gave him a look and Lúcio just smiled back, a bounce in his step as they drew closer to the store. “Why’re ya so excited?”

“Because! It’s fun to see someone try something for the first time, especially when it’s something you _know_ they’ll love!” Lúcio said excitedly. He could already see Junkrat having trouble eating his s’mores, chocolate going everywhere, melted marshmallow landing on his shorts. It was going to be hilariously amazing.

Junkrat scratched the back of his head, moving his beanie out of place. “Think you’re oversellin’ these things.”

“I’m not,” Lúcio promised, his smile big and bright. “Trust me.”

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly, the hardest thing to get on their very short list was the chocolate. There were so many options and different brands that Lúcio was having a hard time deciding which one to get. Junkrat was no help at all.  Lúcio had heard from Roadhog it was hard to keep track of him in a store sometimes, but it was even worse when he was on the candy aisle.

“Should get some of these, too,” Junrkat said, reaching over and taking a large bag of pop rocks off the shelf. “They’re my favorite.”

Lúcio looked at the bag and then at Junkrat with narrowed eyes. “Fine, but that’s it.”

“What?” Junkrat asked incredulously. “We _can’t_ go to the shops without gettin’ some gummies, mate. Second best thing to eat.” He didn’t even wait for Lúcio’s go ahead before reaching down and getting a bag of gummy bears. “Ice cream. ‘Hog’ll be pissed if we don’t get him some.”

Deciding to just get a brand he was familiar with, Lúcio grabbed a large bar of chocolate and looked over at Junkrat. He’d gone from one bag of pop rocks to five bags of various candies and was making his way out of the aisle to who knows where.

Lúcio hurried quickly down the aisle, sidestepping other customers and nearly running into carts with how frantic he was searching for Junkrat. He stopped and picked up a bag of marshmallows before heading to the ice cream section. That’s the only place Junkrat had mentioned, so Lúcio assumed that’s where he’d be.

“Fuckin’ hell, they don’t have any with nuts?” Junkrat said, his voice carrying and alerting Lúcio to where he was. He was starting irritatingly at one of the freezers, his left foot tapping impatiently.

Lúcio walked over to him and tugged on his shirt. “Junk, don’t just run off. We have to get back soon!”

“Right, yeah, I know, but…” Junkrat lifted a hand and opened the freezer, letting out a gust of cold air. “They seriously don’t have any with nuts? ‘Hog loves his nuts, ya know.”

Lúcio couldn’t help it, he snickered. It turned into full blown laughter when Junkrat looked back at him and smirked. Lúcio covered his mouth with his free hand to try and stifle his laughter. This wasn’t the time to get distracted. Once he got Junkrat out of the store, he could tell all the pun jokes he wanted.

“Here, lemme see,” Lúcio offered, stepping in front of Junkrat and peering inside the freezer. It was strange that there weren’t any chocolate ice creams bars with nuts, but there was a chance that a box could be hidden somewhere. Mistakes like that happened all the time. Lúcio shuffled some boxes around and looked for a spare that had been misplaced. Near the back, he found a box that was a little damaged, but unopened. He pulled it out of the freezer and inspected it, relieved to see that it was exactly the box he needed.

“Found one,” Lúcio said, handing Junkrat the box. His hands were already full, but he took it and balanced it on top of all the bags of candy he was carrying. “But really, Junk, nothing else. We came here for three things and you’ve got, like, ten.”

Junkrat adjusted the bags of candy in his hands and sighed, looking frustrated. “Fine,” he pouted, looking down at the treats he’d picked out. “I’ll get the pop rocks for me, the ice cream for ‘Hog and then… you can pick somethin’.”

Lúcio was momentarily shocked by Junkrat’s consideration. He smiled, moving the bag of marshmallows to his other hand. “That’s sweet of you,” Lúcio said, a terrible joke since they were buying nothing but sweet treats. Junkrat seemed to appreciate it all the same and snickered in his wild and spastic way.

Nothing was coming to mind when it came to his own sweet snack. Really, he thought the s’mores would be enough for him, but he didn’t want to decline Junkrat’s offer. He eyed the various bags of sweets that Junkrat held close to his chest, among them, the gummy bears.

“I’ll just get these,” Lúcio said, gingerly lifting the bag of gummy bears out of the pile that Junkrat carried.

“You sure?” Junkrat asked, one thick eyebrow raised. “You don’t have ta get ‘em just ‘cuz I like ‘em.”

“I like gummy bears, too,” Lúcio said. His smile turned a bit playful as he made his way down the aisle. “And if you go put all those back, I might share them with you.”

Junkrat swiftly passed him and turned to head back to the candy aisle. Lúcio knew that was a bit of a risk, to leave him there unsupervised. But he hoped the allure of sweet gummy bears would bring Junkrat back to his side before he could check out.

 

* * *

 

The bag of gummy bears was opened on their way back to the beach. Junkrat kept asking for red and yellow ones, which Lúcio had to dig out and get for him. That left the green and orange ones for Lúcio to eat. Which he didn’t mind; the green ones were actually his favorite.

“Those graham crackers look gross,” Junkrat said, popping two gummy bears in his mouth.

“You haven’t even tried them yet!” Lúcio told him, laughing under his breath. “They taste really good with the marshmallows and chocolate. You’ll see.”

Junkrat made a doubtful noise and held his hand out for more gummy bears. Lúcio deposited five of them and they all went tumbling into Junkrat’s mouth. “Ta,” he mumbled through his chewing, eyes looking upward to the night sky. “Might just be you and me out there since it’s gotten so late,” he said. The sun had set twenty minutes ago and the sky was darkening with each passing second. Everyone would be heading inside by now.

Lúcio shrugged his shoulders and handed Junkrat another two gummy bears. “That’s fine with me. I really just wanna see you eat your first s’more.”

Junkrat was quiet for a moment, not even holding out his hand for more gummy bears. “What if I don’t like ‘em?”

Lúcio wanted to laugh, and nearly did, but he wanted to answer seriously. Maybe he had been overselling s’mores. They weren’t _that_ great, but he felt it was treat everyone should have the pleasure of eating. If Junkrat was actually afraid of disappointing Lúcio, then he wanted to reassure him.

“Then you don’t like them,” Lúcio answered, leaning closer and bumping Junkrat’s hip with his own. “I just want you to try them, Junk. You don’t have to force yourself to like them.”

Junkrat glanced down at him, their eyes meeting for a brief second before he turned away. “‘Kay,” he mumbled, pocketing his hand, which Lúcio took to mean he was done with gummy bears for the time being. Lúcio rolled up the bag and held it, looking forward and seeing the smoke from the bonfire not too far away from where they were.

When they arrived, McCree was still passed out in his chair. Roadhog was still sitting by the fire as well. He acknowledged their return by grunting under his breath and Lúcio said his own greeting in reply.

Hana had moved over by the fire to continue playing her game. She looked up as they came closer and eyed the bags of goods they held in their hands. “You got stuff for s’mores, right?” she asked. “I got sticks for us to use.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Lúcio said, setting the bags down and taking a seat next to Hana. Junkrat continued over to Roadhog, reaching into his bag and pulling out the box of ice cream bars. He seemed excited to be given a surprise treat, at least, Lúcio _thought_ he did.

“You guys were gone for a while. Everyone else turned in already,” Hana said, not wasting any time in digging in the bag for the marshmallows. “Which means we get to make all the s’mores we want!”

Lúcio laughed and worked on opening the box of graham crackers. “I’ll probably just have one. I don’t wanna be up all night,” he said, handing Hana a graham cracker to use for her s’more. Her marshmallow was already nicely toasted, but instead of placing on the graham cracker Lúcio offered her, she blew on it until it was cool and ate it by itself.

Hana noticed the look Lúcio was giving her and shrugged. “I just want the marshmallows,” she said, reaching into the bag and getting another one.

Lúcio laughed and worked on opening the chocolate next. “Okay, but don’t eat them all,” As he ripped open the paper and foil holding the chocolate hostage, Junkrat walked over and sat on his other side. He resumed the position he’d taken before they’d left for the store, legs stretched out and feet dangerously close to the fire. “So, how d’ya make one of these s’mores?” he asked.

“Wait, you’ve never—?” Hana leaned over and looked at Junkrat in disbelief. “No wonder Lúcio’s so excited!” She returned to toasting her marshmallow in the fire. “You should’ve seen how happy he was when he told me you guys were going to the store, Junkrat. He couldn’t stop smiling and—”

“ _Hana_ ,” Lúcio interrupted, his eyebrows furrowed and his smile forced. How could she just blab everything like that? In front of Junkrat? True, he was excited, but only because it _was_ exciting to see someone experience something new. It was just extra exciting this time around because it was with Junkrat.

Hana paused mid-chew as she looked at Lúcio, catching onto his warning tone very quickly. “Right, uh…” She reached down and grabbed a few more marshmallows. “I’ll just leave you guys to it, then! Enjoy the s’mores, JR!” She grabbed her handheld console in her other hand and was off down the beach, giving Lúcio a wave and a grin.

“So, uh,” Lúcio started, turning around to face Junkrat now that everything was open and ready. “You wanna toast your marshmallow?”

“‘Course, I do,” Junkrat said, taking the stick Lúcio offered him and putting a marshmallow on it. He held it out toward the fire and turned it so that it would toast evenly. Lúcio watched him for a moment, mesmerized by the light and shadows dancing across Junkrat’s face. The tips of his blonde hair poking out from under his beanie moved gently with the breeze. His eyes were on his marshmallow, but it seemed like his mind was elsewhere.

Then those eyes were on him.

“How toasted is this marshmallow s’posed to get?” Junkrat asked him.

Lúcio quickly turned to look at it, noting how it was dark brown, but it was approaching burnt territory. “That’s enough! Sorry, I should’ve told you to stop.”

“’S fine,” Junkrat said, bringing his stick close and blowing on his marshmallow. “Don’t mind mine bein’ extra crispy.”

Lúcio snorted as he broke a graham cracker in half. “Yeah, I’m sure you don’t.” He gave one piece to Junkrat and kept the other, placing a piece of chocolate on it. “Okay, so move the marshmallow onto that cracker first.”

Junkrat clumsily followed Lúcio’s instructions, his fingers getting coated in marshmallow goo. A good sized chunk ended up on the cracker, so Lúcio leaned forward and placed the chocolate and other graham cracker on top.

“Okay,” he said, excitement building in his chest. “Go ahead and smush it down like a sandwich and then you can eat it.”

Junkrat gave him a look before moving his other hand on top of the graham cracker and smushing it down. A little chocolate spilled out and onto the sand, but neither of them seemed to care. Junkrat was used to messes and Lúcio was too focused on seeing every moment of Junkrat’s reaction to his first s’more.

With his fingers coated in chocolate and marshmallow, Junkrat took a bite of the s’more, another bit of chocolate dripping down his chin. A string of marshmallow goo trailed off from the s’more and Junkrat furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance. Lúcio couldn’t help but laugh at the mess Junkrat was making.

“Do you like it?” Lúcio asked, kicking himself for not thinking of getting napkins or something. He forgot just how messy s’mores could be.

Junkrat shrugged, swallowing his first bite and examining the s’more in his hand. “‘S alright. Fuckin’ messy, though.” He licked a piece of chocolate off his thumb. “Marshmallow’s the best part.”

“What? The chocolate brings the whole thing together!” Lúcio argued, picking up a marshmallow to toast. Junkrat ate the rest of his first s’more and proceeded to lick his fingers clean. “Did you like the graham crackers?”

Junkrat paused, his index finger in his mouth as he thought on that. “Yeah, but… not as much as the marshmallow.”

Lúcio couldn’t say he was surprised. Marshmallows were the part that most people loved. He pushed the bag of marshmallows toward Junkrat, scooting a little closer to the fire as a chill went through the air. “You wanna make another one?”

Junkrat was already digging his hand into the bag, placing a marshmallow on his stick. “Yeah. These things aren’t half bad, but I bet I know what could make ‘em better.”

Lúcio watched curiously as Junkrat dug around in the bag that held the rest of their groceries. With a mischievous grin, Junkrat pulled out a small bag of pop rocks.

“Are you _really_ going to put those on your s’more?” Lúcio asked, watching as Junkrat opened the packet with his teeth.

“‘Course I am! Pop rocks make everythin’ better!” He sprinkled half the package into his mouth while he started to turn his marshmallow. “Maybe I’ll put some gummy bears on one, too.”

Lúcio rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back the smile on his face. Junkrat certainly made things interesting with his outlandish ideas, but that was something Lúcio liked about him.

As the stars began to light up the sky, the two of them continued to make s’mores for another hour or so, their fingers coated in marshmallow and chocolate. When they decided to finally go inside, their bag of candy was gone and Junkrat’s tongue was a rainbow of colors. Lúcio had eaten seven s’mores more than what he wanted and his cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so much.

With the bonfire put out and the beach chairs in their proper positions, the two of them and Roadhog headed inside the base. They said their goodnight’s before retiring and Lúcio, just as he thought he would, had trouble sleeping that night. But, as he lay awake thinking about red and yellow gummy bears and chocolate on tan lips, he knew it wasn’t because of all the sweets he ate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](http://minniemousetopless.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is http://largeese.tumblr.com if you wanna... talk to me about these two dudes doing the do.


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